


The Divergent Path

by Little_Miss_Numbers



Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Cardassians, Deep Space Nine - Freeform, M/M, Maquis, Maquis missions, Pre-Canon, reference to PTSD, tactical maneuvering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Miss_Numbers/pseuds/Little_Miss_Numbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was inspired somewhat by reading Chakotay and Tom Paris'  backstories given in Jeri Taylor's <i>Pathways</i>, and considering what might have happened if Paris hadn't been captured by Starfleet and stayed with the Maquis until they got lost in the Delta Quadrant.</p>
<p>Having read the book is not at all necessary to understanding the fic, it's mostly only relevant in regards to a few background details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trebus

_According to the novel Pathways by Jeri Taylor, Tom Paris is captured by the_ USS Bradbury _while relaying a message to a nearby sympathetic colony that Chakotay and his crew need help. But what if The Bradbury hadn’t been there and Paris had never been arrested?_

\--|--

Chakotay watched lights streak across the sky like meteors, loose rubble from what only a few hours ago had been his ship _The Liberty_ , and fought back an urge to hit something. Their only hope now was the colonists on Selka and--as much as he hated to admit it--Tom Paris.

“You should have sent Yuri.” Chakotay half agreed, but it didn’t mean he found Ayala’s comments any less irritating.

“Yuri never would have made it through all the debris from the Cardassian ship,” he said, repeating Paris’ argument on why he should have been the one to go. It may have even been true.

“Yeah, but Yuri would have come back.” 

Chakotay didn’t respond. It had only been half a day. It was still possible that Paris had taken the longer route to avoid any patrol ships and that he was still on his way back. Even if he was taking a long time. But as the hours continued to pass, that window of plausibility was closing fast.

It was the middle of the night when two lights suddenly appeared in the sky and flew down to a nearby clearing. Most of the crew was asleep, camped around a large fire while Chakotay and B’elanna took a shift to keep watch in case any predators came out of the nearby forest. Chakotay ordered her to stay while he went, phaser out, just in case, to meet the incoming ships. At least he knew it wasn’t likely to be Starfleet or the Cardassians. They would have beamed down instead of landing themselves.

Chakotay walked into the lit up field holding his arm up to protect his eyes from the dust being kicked up by the landing ships. And a wave of relief overcame him when the first one opened and Callum Murphy, a personal friend of his and community leader from Selka, walked out. The second ship, he quickly realised with a grateful twinge, was his own shuttle. 

“You came back,” he said as Paris walked over to join them. 

“Try not to look so surprised,” drawled Paris. He rolled his eyes at the impressed look in Chakotay’s eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I had nowhere else to go,” he said and took off in the direction of the campfire. Watching him disappear into the brush it was the first time it had ever occurred to Chakotay that he may have misjudged the young pilot.

\--|--

It was three weeks later and Chakotay had a new ship, The Val Jean. It was an old ship, bartered away from a group of Bajorans who had used it to fend off the Cardassians during the occupation. The engine alone was a 39 years old and mostly rebuilt from various other parts from around the same era. But she could fly and she had a fair bit of firepower for a ship her size, even if Paris had to put a bit of extra weight on the port side thrusters to make sure she flew straight.

At the moment they were on their way to a trading post on the edge of the Demilitarized Zone. A contact of Chell’s who was sympathetic to the cause was offering weapons. Chakotay always found charitable offers like these suspicious, but they were too desperate to let it pass without at least attempting to see if it was genuine.

They arrived in a shuttle, rather than bring the actual ship, always suspicious of possible Federation or Cardassian raids, neither of which were uncommon in the seedy bars and trading centres of the space station. Chakotay took Paris with him to make contact with the dealer to keep him where he could see him--even having been in the Maquis for as long as he had, Chakotay had never seen trouble follow anyone around the way it did his pilot--while Ayala and Seska were to have arrived earlier and found a nearby table where they could keep an eye on things and be on hand in case anything went wrong.

“Just follow my lead and keep your smartass remarks to yourself,” Chakotay hissed at Paris as they made their way through the throng of tables to the bar. While he waited for their drinks he scanned the patrons. Sure enough he spotted an older Bolian woman in a secluded corner near the back. She wore a black leather jacket and a drink with a pink umbrella, just like she told them she would. He turned to Paris to point her out, but when he turned around he wasn’t there. “Shit.” He frantically scanned the bar for blond hair and a brown jacket. There! Somehow Paris had managed to make it halfway across the bar and was arguing with a Nausicaan. 

“Hey, you haven’t paid!” yelled the bartender as Chakotay stormed off. As he got closer, he quickly realised what the argument was over. 

“Leave me alone!” snapped Paris, pulling his shoulder away from the Nausicaan’s firm grip. 

“Pretty thing like you in a place like this?” The Nausicaan seemed to be trying to direct him into one of the backrooms. But of course Paris was having none of it. “Come on. Make a lonely trader’s day.” He moved his hand down towards Paris’ hip and tried again to gently push him into the hallway and out of sight.

Chakotay grabbed the Nausicaan’s arm and directed the creature back towards himself. “I think he said no,” he told him.

It worked. The Nausicaan abandoned Paris completely and turned on Chakotay. He picked him up off the ground and pushed him hard against the wall, leaning in so close that Chakotay could smell the kanar on his breath, and growled. “You wanna mind your own business, Human?”

“It is my business when you’re bothering members of my crew,” Chakotay answered evenly, holding eye contact. He’d fought bigger and more sober Nausicaan’s than this idiot.

“Who says he’s bothered?”

It was that moment that Paris decided to try and escape. He attempted to slip past the Nausicaan back into the main bar area, but the Nausicaan was too quick. He dropped Chakotay and grabbed Paris’ arm. “You wait here, while I handle this,” he told him, pushing him into a nearby chair. He turned back to Chakotay just in time to see a fist flying towards him. The Nausicaan staggered for a moment and let out an angry growl before charging. Chakotay dodged effortlessly and hit him again, this time squarely on the jaw. The Nausicaan went down, half unconscious, with a silly look spread across his face. 

Chakotay shook his hand and hoped he hadn’t broken anything. He looked around. It said a lot about what sort of bar this was that they the only attention they’d attracted was a few curious stares. 

“That’s quite the right hook you’ve got there, Captain,” said Paris. 

It had been an uppercut, but Chakotay was concerned about more important things. He rounded on Paris. “I turn my back on you for a minute--” He stopped mid sentence. The bar had suddenly gone quiet. Chakotay took a step out of the hall to see two Starfleet officers walk through the front door. He stepped back out of sight.

“There she is in the back corner,” said the first Starfleet officer nodding, almost imperceptibly to their contact. A commander, Chakotay realised when she was close enough to see the pics on her collar. 

“They’re late,” said the lieutenant beside her. “Do you think they stood her up?”

Chakotay waited until the officers were nearly at the bar before taking Paris’ arm and walking slowly back out the door. “For once, Paris, I think your penchant for trouble just saved our asses.” 

Ayala and Seska saw them leave and followed them out not too long after and very soon they found themselves back on the _Val Jean_ where Chakotay explained what happened minus some details about the lecherous Nausicaan. 

Chell looked genuinely upset over the whole thing. “She’s from Hakton VII and a friend of my sisters. I was so sure we could trust her.”

“No harm done,” Chakotay reassured him. “But we are low on supplies. Marva IV’s not too far from here, let’s see if they’ll take us in for a few nights while we refuel. Paris?”

“On my way,” said Paris getting up and climbing up to the bridge.

“Huh,” said Ayala, still watching the port Paris had disappeared through. “That was almost cooperative.”

\--|--

That night Chakotay was woken by the sound of rapping on metal. It took him a moment to understand that somebody was knocking on his door. “Come in,” he yawned, his voice groggy with sleep as he pushed himself up so he was sitting with legs hanging over the bed.

The computer acknowledged the command and the door to his cabin slid open, revealing none other than Tom Paris. But the usual sneer and aloof attitude he was used to seeing in him were gone. And standing there, looking bare and vulnerable was a man Chakotay wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.

“Can I help you, Tom?” 

It was a night of surprises, Chakotay thought as his pilot, instead of answering his question, crossed the room and kissed him deeply on the mouth. He pulled away and carefully gauged Chakotay’s reaction, and when he was satisfied he wasn’t about to be punched or kicked out, he did it again.

Finally Chakotay’s brain seemed to catch up with what was going on. “Not that I’m complaining, but…” Chakotay started but was cut off by another full kiss, and by the time they came up for air again and Paris moved on to the area just underneath his ear Chakotay had completely forgotten what he wanted to ask.

When Chakotay woke up again a few hours later Paris was gone.

\--|--

“The Cardassian freighter is disabled, they’re dead in space,” announced Ayala with audible relief from his station. He had only been manning tactical for a few weeks, but he wasn’t taking to it as quickly as Chakotay had hoped.

“Shit!” yelled Torres, pouring over her control panel to assess damages. “That freighter took out our warp drive.”

“We’ll fix it,” answered Chakotay impatiently.

“Along with our shields? We don’t have the parts,” she snapped back, obviously not appreciating Chakotay’s bad mood. 

“It would be a good time to resupply,” said Ayala, matter-of-factly. “Chell told me this morning we’re running low on food supplies again.”

“Already?”

“Maybe he’s eating eating it all,” snarked Paris from behind the helm.

“Shut up, Paris,” snapped Torres. 

“Soltok IV isn’t exactly sympathetic, but we can make it there in a day on impulse,” said Ayala from behind his station. “If we lie low, we could probably trade for what we need without too much trouble.”

“No." Chakotay shook his head. “We’ve had too many near misses lately. Set a course for Trebus.”

“Yeah? And what makes Trebus so much safer?” asked Paris. It was a fair question. Trebus was officially neutral, and was known for being more than cooperative with both Federation and Cardassian military since the Cardassians had cowed them into submission a couple years back. 

“Captain’s sister’s the chief,” Ayala answered him with a smirk.

“Great,” muttered Paris as he set the coordinates. “More Chakotays. Just what we need.”

\--|--

The Val Jean barely reached Trebus 3 days later with an engine that had been threatening the quit the entire way, and a very tense crew. Chakotay thought it was a small miracle nobody had tried to kill anyone after he cut rations and ordered double duty to get them all there without losing power. Still, he thought, it would have gone much smoother if it hadn’t been for Paris. He’d been particularly obnoxious lately--not since their skirmish with the freighter, but ever since he’d shown up unexpectedly at Chakotay’s cabin three weeks ago. He hadn’t been back, and he hadn’t acknowledged the encounter, and Chakotay would have guessed he had dreamt the entire incident if it wasn’t for the sudden increase in attitude and backtalk that had begun the next morning.

When they landed on Trebus there was a woman standing outside waiting for them. She was middle aged with long black hair and large beaded earrings. 

“You’re cutting it pretty close, Chakotay,” she yelled over the kicked up dust around them. She had her arms crossed and a severe look on her face, not looking at all happy about the surprise visit from her brother. “Starfleet’s been poking their nose around here again. The Bradbury was here just two days ago looking for you.”

“So will you help us or should we try Dorvan V?” asked Chakotay when he’d reached her, ignoring just for the moment that he wasn’t sure they could get their ship back into orbit, let alone handle the extra 5 days journey it would take them to get to Dorvan V without warp.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid," she told him. “We’ll help you with basic supplies. Food, necessities, any tools you might need to repair your ship. But I don’t want you here longer than a couple days. I don’t want the federation knowing I’ve been harboring Maquis.”

“They gave up any right to care when they abandoned us to the Cardassians,” spat Chakotay.

“Tell them, not me,” she shot back. 

Chakotay turned back to his crew. “This is my sister, Sekaya.” He yelled over to them. “If she tells you to do anything, you do it. Otherwise you stay out of her way and don’t cause any trouble.” He started barking more specific orders for gathering supplies and repairing the ship. “And Paris, I noticed the port thrusters were getting sluggish again last time I was at the helm. I want you to realign the steering manifolds.”

Paris groaned. “That’ll take all day," he said. “It’s not even a problem if you make sure to give them a bit of a push before engaging them.”

“I’d still rather it was fixed, Paris.” said Chakotay sternly.

For a tense moment he was worried Paris was going to argue with him again, but he seemed to deflate. “Whatever.” He shrugged and made his way back into the landed ship.

“He’s a charmer, that one,” Sekaya commented as she watched him leave.

Chakotay followed her gaze. “Paris? He’s just trying to get a rise out of me. He’s harmless.”

Sekaya didn’t look reassured. “I don’t like these rebels you keep bringing into my community,” she told him. “I know a lot of the people here see you as great warriors, freedom fighters, but all I see when I look at your crew are petty criminals, mercenaries and people who’ve mistaken a thirst for revenge for ideals.” 

She leveled her eyes with her brother’s, challenging him to disagree with her assessment. But he turned away. “We appreciate your help,” he told her, calmly walking past her and towards the village. “And don’t worry. We won’t be here long enough to cause any problems.”

\--|--

Paris was immediately hit by a wave of heat as he entered the large ship. With all the internal systems offline, including environmental controls, the ship hadn’t taken long to overheat on the overbearing planet. Even with all the airlocks opened.

“Great,” he muttered as he made his way up the jefferies tubes to the even more stifling bridge. 

“Paris? What are you doing here?” It was Ayala. He was standing over the engineering console holding some tools for Torres, who was completely hidden behind the casing from the waist up.

“Captain wants me to realign the steering manifolds,” he answered nonchalantly making his way across the room. 

Torres pulled herself out from under the console. She was completely covered in grease and sweat, and not looking at all happy at the interruption. “Yeah, well just stay out of our way,” she told him. “I don’t want to be stuck in this damn heat any longer than necessary.”

Paris started into his own console and started preliminary scans. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered sardonically. And so the afternoon ticked by as Paris worked steadily, determinedly ignoring both Ayala and Torres’ idle conversation along with the growing unbearable heat. After a while he had had enough. “Hey!” he called across the bridge to Ayala and Torres. “Any closer to getting environmental controls back on?”

“We’re working as fast as we can,” answered Torres impatiently.

“Yeah, well it doesn’t sound like it over here,” he snarked back.

“Oh buzz off, Paris,” said Ayala. 

Paris looked down at his half torn apart console. He wasn’t near finished and at this point there was no touching helm control until he was. He looked back at the engineering team. “You know what, Leo? That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Without even bothering to clean up his work space he strolled right off the bridge.

“Wait--” Ayala started to go after him but Torres grabbed his arm.

“Let him go,” she said. “Let the Captain deal with it when he gets back.”

\--|--

Walking outside was heaven after being on that bridge. It was a warm day, but not so warm as to be oppressive, and there was a beautiful cool breeze that felt wonderful as it passed gently across his sweaty face and arms. There was a pesky feeling of guilt that tried to force its way into his chest, but he pushed it down and headed into the trees and towards the sounds rushing water.

His heart leaped when he finally reached a giant river. It looked calm enough, but Paris had been around enough large rivers to know that that was only because of the size. The water rushed by fast enough that he could tell it was a fast current, and probably pretty dangerous to swim in. Still it was about what he hoped for, and he took his tank top off and plunged it into the water before pulling it out and twisted it dry above his head. 

Eventually he managed to find a large enough tree to lean back against. He patted his head and neck with the damp shirt and feeling much than he had been drifted peacefully off to sleep. 

The first thing he was aware of when he opened his eyes were too large brown eyes staring back at him. He jumped back against the tree. 3 little kids, maybe around 7 or 8 years old, were standing around him, watching him curiously.

“What the hell?” 

“He’s awake.” The young girl’s whose eyes he’d seen when he’d woken up, stated the obvious. She was flanked by two nearly identical looking boys, slightly shorter than she was. It was then that Paris noticed what one of the boys was holding.

“Hey, that’s my shirt!”

The boy’s eyes went wide and he pulled the damp fabric tightly to his chest. Paris pushed himself up, intending to reach over and grab his shirt back, but before he had a chance the boy suddenly screamed “RUN!” and the 3 of them scattered off into the bush.

Paris took off after them, stumbling a bit as he tried to get up quickly, but he soon realised he was at a disadvantage. Partly because of his size--the kids liked to make use of narrow pathways, and small openings Paris would have had to crawl through--and in terms of knowledge. The kids seemed to know the unfamiliar terrain like it was their own backyard, which, Paris considered, it probably was. He probably would have lost them almost immediately if it wasn’t for the fact they kept popping back up again whenever he stopped,to check on what he was doing. The little monsters were playing with him. Well, Paris thought, two could play at that game.

He stopped chasing them completely. Instead he made his way back to the riverbank where there weren’t any trees and he could see more than a few feet around him. Sure enough, as soon as he sat down, 3 curious heads popped out from behind a bush in the forest. They waited for him to chase them again, and when he didn’t move they slowly crept closer. Paris ignored them, choosing to stare into the water instead, but he listened to the rustling of long grass as they continued to keep closer. When they were finally closer to him than they were to the woods he leapt up and sprang for the one with his shirt.

The kid shrieked as he pulled him up. And when Paris reached for his clothes, he could feel him giggling in his arms. What were these kids playing at, he thought as he put the kid down. He thought it was good they were playing these games with him and not, say, someone like Suder. “Didn’t anyone tell you kids to leave us alone?” he asked them. “We’re not nice people. We’re dangerous.”

“No you’re not.” Paris turned to the little girl. She was looking up at him defiantly. “You’re warriors. You defend us from the Cardassians.”

“Oh yeah? Says who?” asked Paris.

“Everyone.” It was the boy who had had his shirt. “The Cardassians destroyed 3 of our villages," he explained as though that said everything.

“I’m gonna be Maquis when I grow up,” said the third kid, his eyes shining. 

Paris groaned. No wonder Sekaya didn’t want Maquis on her planet. “Yeah, well, just because the Cardassians are bad guys doesn’t mean the people fighting them are all that great.”

The kids frowned, confused. “But you’re Maquis,” one of them pointed out.

“And that should tell you everything you need right there,” said Paris. The kids looked blankly at each other. Paris knelt down so he was at eye level. “You know what I do to children?” he asked, a mischievous glint coming into his eyes. They shook their heads and Paris grinned. He began creeping towards them and speaking in a low voice. “I like to catch them and put them in my dungeon where I fatten them up.” He slowly raised himself up so he was towering over them. “And then do you know what I do?” The kids shook their heads. “I eat them!” He cried out suddenly, lunging towards the nearest child. The kids screamed and disappeared back into the bush.

Paris laughed softly to himself. He had to admit, they were cute. A bit misguided, but cute. He looked around and noticed long shadows and a darker sun. It was early evening, he realised. He should probably get back before Chakotay blew a gasket. He turned away from the river and stopped. He had no idea where he was. Those damn kids, he swore and looked around for something familiar. Failing that, he wondered if he followed the river if he’d be able to recognize where he’d fallen asleep earlier. It wasn’t as though he had any better ideas, he thought bitterly to himself, and started down the river.

As he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him. He tried to ignore it, but every time he heard a rustle in the forest he’d stop dead and look around, though he never saw anything out of the ordinary. “Damn, Tom, you’re getting paranoid,” he chided himself. He started moving again, but stopped when he heard another noise. That wasn’t rustling, that was definitely a giggle. “Alright, I know you’re still here,” he called out. Nothing. “Come on, I won’t eat you,” he reassured them, but they still stayed hidden. “Please? I’m lost.” He heard another rustling and saw a tiny mess of black hair slowly rise out of the bush, followed by a pair of large brown eyes. Two more quickly followed.

Paris breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Alright guys, where’s the village from here?”

The kids suddenly took off again, and Paris once again found himself unsuccessfully trying to keep up with them through the woods. But just like last time, he noticed they never let him get too far behind. He hoped they were leading him back towards the village. He didn’t want to get lost out here. He’d just forced himself through a particularly thick bit of brush, being too big to make it through the small hole the kids had ran through, when he heard a scream. He sped up and almost ran right off a cliff.

It wasn’t too high, he thought looking down the sudden drop off. But it did fall into the river, and the current looked even stronger here than it did back where he’d been earlier. He quickly looked around for whichever kid it was who had screamed. There, the little girl was about 2 metres down, barely holding herself above the water by hanging on to a tree root that was sticking out of the riverbank.

“Hold on!” he called to her. He rushed to her, and leaned over the drop off, but she was just out of reach. He climbed back out and started scanning the area for something, anything he could use to pull her out. He was relieved when he saw the two boys watching timidly from a distance. “Hey, help me find a long stick or something. Anything big enough to pull her out!” he yelled at them.

The kids immediately disappeared back into the woods. Paris turned back to the girl. “We’re looking for a way to get you out,” he called out over the roar of the river.

“Hurry!” she yelled back. Her eyes were closed tight and Paris thought she looked terrified. “Where are those kids?” he muttered, looking back to see if they’d found anything yet. An agonizing 30 seconds went by before the boys reappeared with a large tree branch. 

Paris took it and lowered it down for the girl. “Grab onto this!” She didn’t move. “Come on!” he yelled. He watched her open her eyes, and hold completely still for a moment while she considered what to do. Finally she let go of the tree root and grabbed hold of the branch. Paris exhaled and began slowly pulling her up to shore. “Hold on!” He yelled again. “We’ll have you safe in a second.” _Steady_ , he thought to himself. She was maybe about halfway up when Paris’ heel landed on a damp bit of grass and he jerked backwards to keep from falling. He quickly looked down in horror to see the girl’s grip slip, and she fell into the roaring river. Paris’ boots were off a second later and he dove into the water after her, hoping the current wasn’t as dangerous as it looked.

It was. He was pulled under water 3 times before he managed to catch sight of the girl again. Her head bobbing up only briefly about 3 metres away. Paris took off towards her.

“Natiaka!” It was one of the boys, running down the river bank beside them. “Natiaka!” he called again.

Paris didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t have time to speculate. He’d just reached the girl and it was taking everything he had to keep them both above water.

“Natiaka!” she yelled suddenly in between heavy coughing.

“What are you--” Paris stopped talking. A very large snake-like creature had just breached the water beside him. “Holy shit, what was that!?” he asked.

“Natiaka," answered the girl. 

“Of course it is.” 

Paris started to scan the shoreline for a place they could climb out, but it was still too steep and too high. But when the creature passed beside them again, he decided he was just going to have to make due. He swam to the edge of the river and grabbed a tree root midway up. He pulled the two of them halfway out of the water the same moment the creature leaped out and lunged towards them. Paris managed to dodge just in time pulling himself to the other side of the tree root and the creature hit the river wall beside them with a thud. But Paris could see it swimming back in circles just under the water beside him a moment later. They had to hurry.

By letting her climb onto his shoulder he managed to get the girl high enough to grab the hand of one of the boys hovering overhead, and they pulled her up. Paris had just enough time to register she was safe when he felt something clamp down around his foot and pull him forcefully back into the water. Suddenly Paris was submerged and being spun around. He tried to swim away, and it was mostly luck that his free foot managed to hit the monster solidly on it’s nose. It let go and Paris broke through to the surface and breathed. 

He quickly started swimming back towards the shore, but the creature was already circling him again. He could feel his ankle throbbing, but tried to ignore it. If he could just make it a few more metres to where the bank started to slope--The monster charged him again, at the same moment he reached shallow water, and he managed to roll out of it’s way just in time. He quickly scrambled out of the water, grateful to feel his feet connecting to solid ground. 

The monster didn’t seem to be following him, but he made himself keep going until he was a good few metres into the woods and well away from the river. There he let himself collapse somewhere in a hidden patch of long grass and catch his breath. When he opened his eyes again, the three kids were standing around him watching him again just like they were the first time he saw them.

“Alright," said Paris between heavy breaths. “Can you lead me back to the village now?”

The kids quietly nodded.

\--|--

The sun had nearly set by the time Paris limped back into the village. The kids had led him straight there, but they had gone slowly and taken a longer, easier to follow path so Paris could keep up with his injured ankle. He had hoped that once back he’d be able to slip away back to his ship without being noticed. No such luck. Of all the people to see him being towed back by 3 kids, Sekaya happened to be right there talking to another villager. And when she saw him, she was livid.

She dealt with the kids first, her eyes flashing and her nose flaring, but otherwise keeping herself reigned in as she admonished them for being out so late and sent them all home. It was so much like her brother, Paris almost wanted to laugh. Then she turned her attention to him.

“I will put up with you people on my planet,” she told him in a low voice. “And I will look the other way while you make repairs and collect supplies so you can go off and play war. But you will stay away from the children while you are here.” She emphasized the last sentence, making sure to say it slower and clearer than the rest. “If I see you with them again, you will not get a chance to be seen with them a third time. Do I make myself clear?”

Paris felt a wave of indignation begin to bubble up inside of him but he quickly quashed it. What did he care what the leader of some small planet in the DMZ thought anyways? He felt his expression turn to stone. “Whatever,” he shrugged. “Just tell the brats to keep away from me and we won’t have any problems. S’not my fault if they insist on following me around.”

\--|--

“What do you mean he left!?”

Chakotay had come by the ship to check on the repair crew’s progress only to find helm control ripped apart, and Paris nowhere in sight. 

Ayala shrugged. “He said it was too hot. I told him to buzz off, so he did.”

Chakotay glowered. “Of all the small minded things...” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to find him. And I’m going to bring him back. Even if I have to drag him by that smartass tongue of his,” he said as he left.

Torres whistled. “He’s mad.”

Ayala shrugged. “He usually is when Paris is involved,” he said absently, already pulling his tricorder back out and the two of them picked up where they’d left of when Chakotay had come in.

\--|--

When Chakotay returned to the ship that night, it was still blistering hot inside. He went to find Ayala. “Still no environmental controls?” he asked.

“First thing tomorrow, Captain," Ayala reassured him. “B’elanna just needs to mess a bit more with the engines.” Chakotay nodded, and kept any complaints he had on the tip of his tongue to himself. Ayala spoke again. “Did you find Paris?”

“No.” Actually Chakotay had barely looked. He hadn’t found him in the small village and he was a strong enough tracker to see someone had had gone into the woods rather than towards the village, but decided that he had too much still he wanted to get done to waste his entire afternoon chasing his pilot through the bush. Though he still intended to wring him out the moment he found him, he thought to himself as he left Ayala and made his way to his cabin for the night, but that could wait until morning. Certainly he had no intention of letting him off easily just because he had had some time to cool off--he opened his door and suddenly all angry thoughts fled. Sitting on his bed was Tom Paris.

The pilot looked up at him, and Chakotay was taken in by a pair of tired blue eyes. Paris stood up and suddenly they were close enough that their noses almost touched. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, looking desperately down into Chakotay’s eyes. And between the slight slur in his words and the way his eyelids drooped, it suddenly occurred to Chakotay that Paris was drunk. A thought that was quickly confirmed by the smell of whiskey on his breath.

Chakotay hesitated, caught somewhere between wanting to say yes and knowing he should say no. And so Paris made the decision for him, leaning in and kissing him softly, but deeply. Chakotay followed him back onto the bed, and melted into the heat.

\--|--

Paris cursed the sun, squinting as it rose up over the buildings across from the veranda steps where he was. How early did the sun rise on this damn planet anyways, he thought bitterly as he took another swig of his whisky. The sooner he was properly drunk again, the sooner the light would stop bothering him. Suddenly a shadow passed over him and he looked up to see the little girl from yesterday, standing in front of him.

“Are you OK?” she asked. “You don’t look good.”

Paris looked up at the girl who was staring curiously at him and felt unreasonably annoyed, not just at the intrusion when all he wanted was to sit on his own and be miserable, but at the fact that he heard genuine concern in her voice. He tried to push it down, the last thing he needed was to start snapping at children. “Yeah, well I did something really dumb last night.” 

The girl came over and sat beside him. “You smell bad.” 

“Weren’t you told to stay away from me?” He took another drink. “You better go before I tell Sekaya you were here.”

The girl didn’t move. “My name is Lilaika.” She started rustling through her bag and pulled out a small jar of something red. “Mama told me to give this to you.”

Paris looked dumbfounded at the jar. “Yeah, I’m Tom,” he introduced himself back, absently turning the jar over. He looked back at the girl. “Is this jam?”

“Mama says it’s to say thank you," Lilaika explained, shifting a bit as she talked. Apparently her gratitude was expressed under slight duress.“It’s made from uttaberries,” she went on. “I don’t like uttaberry jam, but you might,” she added hopefully. “I helped pick the berries. Me and Mama went out together. And I saw a blue spotted deer, and Mama told me a story about deer.”

Paris felt himself deflate while she talked. Maybe the kid didn’t really understand, but somehow her mother had found out and was grateful. Then again Lilaika had already said more to him in a few minutes this morning then she did all those hours they had been out in the bush yesterday. Something prompted her to warm up so quickly, surely. He half listened to the girl ramble on about old legends, and let his mind wander a bit. 

He found himself looking around the village. It was his first time in it since they’d arrived, and not at all what he’d expected. It was all those mid-twentieth century westerns he used to watch, he figured; they had him imagining teepees and headdresses in the middle of a desert, but all it was was a scattering of small wooden buildings surrounded by wilderness. “So I guess this is where the Captain grew up, huh?” he wondered aloud when Lilaika had stopped talking. Even without his preconceptions of what he thought a Native American village looked like, it was still wildly different than anything he’d ever experienced in his own childhood. Being an army brat he was never more than a few metres away from the newest technologies and amenities Starfleet had to offer. This might as well be a desert planet.

To his surprise Lilaika answered, “No.”

“No?”

“Chakotay and Sekaya’s village was one of the ones destroyed by the Cardassians.” The girl’s tone was matter-of-fact, and Paris wondered if she really understood what she was saying.

“No shit.” Paris took another drink of his whiskey. “No wonder he’s so angry all the time.”

The girl frowned. “Chakotay’s nice,” she argued. “He’s a warrior. He fights for us.”

“Yeah? Sekaya doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Mama says Sekaya is too rigid,” Lilaika responded sagely probably imitating her mother. “She says she’s too much like her mother. Worried about off-world politics instead of what’s important.”

Paris raised an eyebrow. “Was their mother--”

“Paris!” He was interrupted by a nearby shout.

“Speak of the devil,” drawled Paris looking up to see his captain walking towards them. He stood up to meet him and felt the blood rush out of his head. “Good morning.” He tried not to sway.

Chakotay looked unimpressed. “Look at you. You’re a mess,” he said.

“You didn’t seem to mind last night," Paris snarked. 

Chakotay’s eyes narrowed and for one tense moment Paris was sure he was going to hit him. Chakotay’s arm moved and he flinched before he realised that all he was doing was snatching his bottle of whisky away and pouring it out. Paris stared as the brown liquid bubbled and seeped into the ground.

Chakotay turned his attention away from Paris to Lilaika who was still sitting on the veranda steps. “Lily, go and tell your mom I’m going to be stopping by later.”

He watched the girl run off before turning his attention back to Paris. “Get yourself cleaned up. And sleep this off.” He made a vague motion gesturing to Paris’ drunkeness “And as soon as you’re able, I want you to finish those steering manifolds. I promised Sekaya we’d be off this planet in a couple of days. Don’t make a liar out of me, Paris.”

Had he been more sober, Paris probably would have had something smart to say. But as it was his head was buzzing too much and he thought that sleep sounded like a pretty good idea. “Yes, sir," he answered with fake enthusiasm. He grabbed his jar of jam and limped back towards the ship.

“And get that ankle fixed up,” he ordered, “Before it gets infected or something.”

\--|--

Chakotay walked up to a small house and raised his arm instinctively but caught himself before he knocked on the door. He lowered his arm instead, and turned the handle to let himself in.

“Hello Chakotay.” He was greeted immediately by a kind looking young woman with black braided hair that went most of the way down her back. “You know, you don’t have to announce you’re coming. You’re welcome to just drop by.”

“Hello Tala." Chakotay smiled. “It’s habit. You don’t drop by unannounced on earth.” He helped himself to some tea before joining her at the table.

“You’ve been away too long, then,” she admonished. “You’re picking up bad habits.”

“I’m back now.”

“You should never have left,” she said firmly.

“Maybe,” Chakotay agreed. It was hard to understand why he had ever left when he was on Earth, and then later while he was serving in Starfleet. Though these days he found staying on his home planet without his actual home to go back to too painful. He pushed the thoughts down and changed the subject. “I saw Lily this morning with one of my men.” Tala didn’t react. This was obviously not news to her. Chakotay had expected as much. “Did he have one of your jars of jam?”

“Uttaberry jam,” she confirmed. “I have more if you want some for your trip.” 

Chakotay shook his head. What was he going to do with jam? Though for that matter, what was Paris going to do with a jar of jam? He thought about Paris diligently mixing it with that Bolian gruel Chell served in the mornings and grimaced. “You shouldn’t be encouraging her,” he said, getting back to the reason he came by. “There are dangerous people in that crew. Paris, the man she was with this morning, is a drunk. He’s barely better than a mercenary. He flies to pay his bar tab, not for any cause he believes in.”

“He saved Lily’s life,” said Tala.

Chakotay wondered if he’d misunderstood. “What?”

“She fell into the river,” Tala explained. “Natiaka was there.”

Chakotay thought back to Paris’ limp and the hastily wrapped bandages he’d seen on his ankle last night. “You’ve got to be joking.”

\--|--

The village was quiet as Chakotay walked through it. A few people milling about, minding their own business, a clear day and just barest hint of a warm breeze. The perfect antithesis to the mess of emotions and opposing thoughts doing battle within him. It was one of the things he hated most about this planet that he couldn’t even tell if he wanted to be here or if, just like when he was a kid he desperately wanted to be anywhere else. He thought to himself that it was a good reminder that he had hated this planet, even before he had ever had any reason to. Mostly he looked forward to leaving so he could return to the single simple feeling of longing to come home again.

“There you are.” Chakotay recognized Sekaya’s voice behind him. “I was waiting for you at your ship.”

“I’m on my way there now,” he said. “We’ll be out of your way within the hour.”

There was a look of concern in Sekaya’s face. Chakotay swallowed a sigh. He’d been hoping to avoid this conversation. 

“You could always stay behind," she said. “We can protect you from the Federation. There’s certain legal channels we could use. You should be here Chakotay. With your own people.”

Chakotay closed his eyes. He had heard it all before, she made sure to say it at least once everytime he returned. “You know I can’t,” he answered, impatiently. Annoyed that she still didn’t seem to understand “This is too important a fight. I can’t abandon it.”

“Chakotay, the fight will continue with or without you,” she answered matching him perfectly in both passion and conviction. “You need to tend to your own needs. Not go risk your life for stupid causes.” Her eyes sparkled with barely restrained emotion and Chakotay knew if she could have kept him there by force, she would without hesitation.

Chakotay was unmoved. “I need to fight for this. For us!” he answered stubbornly. 

“No,” said Sekaya firmly. “You need to fight. Period.”

Chakotay stiffened, and for one brief moment Sekaya thought she’d finally gotten through. But a second later his expression had turned cold. “You never did understand,” he said, his voice detached. Without another word, he walked past her and headed back to his ship.

\--|--

Seska readjusted the bust on her dress, just to be sure it was exactly where she wanted it, and continued to make her way confidently towards Chakotay’s cabin. She didn’t usually leave him this long after a fight, but she was getting tired of him taking her for granted and she needed to show him that she didn’t need him. But she felt enough time had passed and maybe it was time to show the poor dear she forgave him.

She reached his door but before she could use the chime it opened.

Chakotay blinked, surprised to see Seska, and after getting a proper look at her, a blush started to creep up his neck.

“Hello Chakotay.” She said softly looking up at him through lidded eyes. She put her hand on his chest and stepped inside his cabin. “I was hoping we could...talk.” She ran her hand down the front seam of his shirt. Her eyes focusing on the cloth under her hands.

Chakotay’s hand reached up and wrapped around Seska’s wrist. And then--and then he was pulling it away!?

“This isn’t really a good time,” he said much more evenly than Seska felt he should have. “I have to go talk to Torres about one of the engines.” He ignored Seska’s open mouth stare and stepped out of his cabin. “Listen, if it’s something important, come see me on the bridge tomorrow morning, we can discuss it then.” 

Then the cabin bay door closed and Seska was left staring, jaw dropped, at a wall. Her eyes narrowed and she said in a low voice, “I don’t know who she is, but I am going to find her and I am going to murder her.”


	2. Marva IV

Gul Evek was having a bad day. Humans have a weird expression, ‘getting up on the wrong side of the bed.’ He’d first heard it from his Starfleet equivalent, a Commander Carl Hudson--that was before he’d joined the Maquis, when they still talked to each other every once in a while--He had thought it was a strange idiom at the time; his bed was against a wall. There was only one side on which to get up from. But since having had it explained, it did seem to sum up his feelings well.

He’d woken up in a bad mood. Too little sleep last night, and a little too much kanar the evening before, and it seemed like everything just kept going wrong from there. From stubbed toes over raised platforms, to burning his tongue on his morning Tarkalean tea, to incompetent underlings screwing up the simplest orders. It was no wonder when their censors picked up a Bajoran freighter sitting on the wrong side of the demilitarized zone’s border he was immediately filled with a feeling of dread.

“I’m reading extensive damage,” his operations officer announced. “Their engines have failed and there are ship wide power outages.”

“Are their communication systems still working?” asked Evek.

“They are.”

“Hail them.”

The view screen suddenly filled with heavy static, which shifted the image of the Bajoran ship’s bridge in an out of focus. But it was enough though that the Cardassian bridge crew could see the young Bajoran woman sitting in the captain’s chair, looking less than impressed at the interruption. 

“This is Seska. Captain of the Bajoran freighter Harmony. What do you want?” she demanded. 

“This is Gul Evek. You have drifted into the Demilitarized Zone. Return to Bajoran Space at once.”

“In case you heaven’t noticed, Gul Evek,” and the Gul didn’t miss the way her voice turned to pure venom when she said his name. _Typical ungrateful Bajoran_ , he thought bitterly to himself. “We’re not in any position to be going anywhere. We were hit by an ion storm and it knocked out our engines. If you want us to go back, you’ll have to tractor us yourself.”

Gul Evek turned to his operations officer and nodded. The tractor beam was established and they began to tow the freighter.

\--|--

“That’s our girl," grinned Ayala from where he was watching the exchange with the others in the engineering room.

“Uploading the virus now,” said Torres, tapping into her console. “It should be indistinguishable from the regular initial feedback from establishing a tractor beam. I’ve set it to take effect in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s cutting it a bit close, isn’t it?” asked Chakotay, his jaw tight. “We’re at least 10 minutes from Bajoran space.”

“Any longer and they might find it and disable it before it goes off,” Torres pointed out. 

Chakotay nodded grimly and turned his attention back to the conversation that was still going on between Seska and Gul Evek. 

What business do you have in this region?» Gul Evek was asking, almost pleasantly. From somebody else they might think it was simply a curiosity or a matter of record.

«That’s of no concern to you,» answered Seska hotly.

«How do I know you weren’t trying to deliver weapons to the terrorists in the demilitarized zone?» asked Gul Evek lightly. «We know you Bajorans are sympathetic to them. Anything to hurt us Cardassians. Even after everything we tried to do for you.»

“Don’t you have an interesting interpretation of things,” Torres muttered. Ayala smirked.

«If you scan our ship you can see our cargo hold is empty,» Seska snapped back. «And we don’t appreciate unfounded accusations.»

“Easy Ses.” Chakotay whispered. As if he might be overheard if he spoke too loudly. “We want him bite.”

«Ah, but you could be returning,» countered the Gul. «There are a lot of ion storms within these borders. If you truly have nothing to hide, you wouldn’t say no to letting us look over your flight history.»

Chakotay relaxed.

“Typical Cardassian logic,” noted Ayala dryly.

From the look on the Cardassian’s faces, they could tell that Seska’s response had raised their suspicions. Then again, being Cardassians, anything short of complete cooperation and obedience and a declaration of loyalty to the Cardassian Empire would have been seen as suspicious.

«You’re not exactly in a position to bargain, Bajoran freighter,» answered Gul Evek, flashing Seska a menacing smile.

“That bastard...” Torres growled.

“Easy,” Chakotay warned. He put his hand on Torres’ shoulder. “Focus on the job.”

They watched as Gul Evek pointed to two of his security guards and ordered them to the transporter room.

“This is it,” said Ayala, reading off his console. “They’re beaming over now.”

“Got it,” Torres replied. “The piggyback beam is in place. With luck they won’t notice anything’s missing until we’re long gone.”

A few seconds later they got the hail from the cargo hold. “Dalby here. The supplies made it, no problem.”

They watched Gul Evek through the Cardassian view screen as his men pushed Paris out of their way and started looking over the recent flight logs. “We’re fine as long as they don’t look too far back,” said Chakotay. It was pure luck that the contact they had gotten the Cardassian trade routes from had met them on a Bajoran moon rather than somewhere in the demilitarized zone.

“Or Paris’ prosthetic nose doesn’t get knocked out of place,” added Ayala, noting how roughly Gul Evek’s guards were handling him. 

But they didn’t and it didn’t and pretty soon Gul Evek had straightened up again, looking disappointed. 

«You got lucky this time Bajoran,>> he told Seska. «Watch yourself, next time we may have time to be more thorough.» He hit his com badge, and there was a slight echo as his they intercepted the Cardassian signal. «Three to transport.»

Chakotay was just thinking that things were going too smoothly. Which was why he wasn’t surprised when the Cardassians didn’t beam over and they intercepted another message from the Cardassian ship. 

«Gul Evek, the supplies for the Panora colony are gone!» said a panicked voice. «The blankets, the medkits, replicators, all of it!»

Chakotay cursed. “B’elanna, get that tractor beam off us now!” he snapped. “And get the shields up, and put a lock on them. I don’t want anyone on the bridge getting it down before we get up there.”

On the split screen ahead of them they saw the Operations Officer’s panel short out from the feedback loop Torres had sent through their tractor beam. 

“Shields are up, Captain,” said Ayala. “And they need either mine or your access code to be brought down again.”

“Good.” Chakotay pulled out his phaser and moved to the jeffries tubes. “Bridge,” he ordered.

Chakotay burst onto the bridge first, quickly flanked by Ayala and Torres, each gun pointed at a different Cardassian. 

“Drop them,” Chakotay ordered, gesturing to the Cardassian phasers. “Hands up where I can see them.” They obeyed and Seska and Paris quickly grabbed the discarded phasers and leveled them at their former owners. 

“Gul Evek, we really need to stop meeting like this,” said Chakotay, his eyes dancing as he walked through the overcrowded bridge to meet him at the helm. 

The Gul’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face Chakotay. “You have a new ship, I see," he answered evenly.

“Gul Evek, what do we do?” asked the operations officer on the other ship. 

It was Chakotay who answered him. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him,” he answered pleasantly and shut off the view screen. He turned to Torres who had retaken her station on the bridge. “How long before the engines are back online?” 

“They’re coming back on now,” she answered. “We’ll have warp in a few seconds.”

“Good. Paris, take us back into the Demilitarized Zone.”

“Anywhere in particular?”

“A deserted M class moon or asteroid would be good. So we could drop off these hitchhikers.”

“I think I’ve got one," said Paris, punching in the coordinates and engaging the engine.

“My ship has a maximum speed of warp 9.8,” Sneered Gul Evek. “You can’t outrun us.”

“Captain, the Cardassian ship just dropped out of warp,” reported Tabor from the tactical station.

Chakotay looked delighted at Gul Evek. “Oh, has it been fifteen minutes already?”

Gul Evek glowered.

\--|--

The Maquis colony on Marva IV gave Chakotay and his crew a hero’s welcome when they landed with the Cardassian supplies. They were received immediately by a welcoming party, filled with high profile Maquis leaders, and a feast was held, supplied mainly by the new replicators they’d stolen from the Cardassian ship.

Ayala had made a comment about the best part of being planetside was that you didn’t have to eat replicated food. You could have the real stuff--the real stuff that isn’t that pungent Bolean stuff Chell insists on making that is. But Chakotay hadn’t minded. He was surrounded by good people, good food, and music and dancing. He’ll accept replicated food for a night from a colony that was excited just to be able to have it. 

“Oh B’elaaanna?” Torres followed the musical call to the playful redheaded Bajoran women that called herself her best friend.

She grinned. “Seska!” she grabbed her friend’s hands and pulled. “Come on, let’s go dance.”

But Seska resisted. “In a bit,” she said. “I want to eat first.” She pulled Torres instead. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to sit.”

“So,” said Seska, leaning in once they’d settled down at one of the tables with some food, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“What do you mean?" Torres looked honestly confused. 

For a brief moment Seska felt a flicker of doubt. Could she have misjudged? It was best to be sure. She jostled Torres playfully. “Oh you know,” she made sure to keep her tone light and gave Torres a strong conspiratorial look. “Chakotay?”

The smallest hint of pink tinged Torres’ cheeks as she pieced together what Seska was hinting at. “You think me and Chakotay--?

“Well haven’t you?” Seska interrupted before she could actually say it. “I saw the way he looked at you when you got that concussion. The night The Liberty was destroyed.”

“Really? How was he looking at me?” The bit of pink on her cheeks was suddenly much darker, and spreading. Well at least Seska had been right when she guessed Torres had a crush on the Captain, but the way she sat blushing like a schoolgirl didn’t sit right with her. “Wait, The Liberty?” Torres did a quick mental calculation. “That was almost two months ago. Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

Seska blinked. How could she have been so off? “I thought you were already in a relationship with him.” In a way she was relieved she was wrong. It put her no closer to figuring out who Chakotay had been seeing lately, but for the most part she liked Torres. It was nice that she wasn’t going to have to kill her.

“I wish," Torres grinned, glancing across the room to where Chakotay was talking to a petite blonde woman from the colony. Sveta, Seska realised. She didn’t like her. Sveta was the one who had recruited Chakotay into the Maquis since she apparently knew him from their academy days. And it was exactly that ambiguous ‘knew’ that bothered Seska so much. They had always seemed closer than she had felt was appropriate. But she knew it wasn’t her either. Whoever her target was it was definitely somebody on the ship.

“I’ve had enough food.” Torres’ complaint brought Seska’s attention back to her and she smiled. “Now come on,” She got up and grabbed Seska’s arms to pull her with her. “I really want to dance.”

\--|--

Sveta reached across the table and poured another glass of wine for Chakotay. Detailing the age and flavour as she did. Chakotay accepted it happily even though it wasn’t asked for, and took in the relaxed, celebratory atmosphere of the night.

“I think my crew really needed this,” he told her. He looked around, catching glimpses of Ayala trying to sweet talk a local Bolian girl, or Torres and Seska moving onto the dance floor and joining a group of locals in a Bajoran circle dance.

“Just the crew?” asked Sveta, always the perceptive one.

Chakotay smiled a bit too amused at the comment, and wondered if he’d had too much to drink. “Could be,” he agreed and he didn’t miss the way she moved closer to him. Or the way she kept looking him up and down as though she was assessing him, despite the fact that by this point she should know every bit of him quite well. He grinned at her and admired the way her light blonde hair caught the light, _just like snow_ , he thought. He really had had too much wine.

The conversation with Sveta had moved on to local affairs. Chakotay was mostly listening, impressed, as he usually was, with the passion she brought to everything she got involved in, when he noticed Paris had wandered onto the square. He was on his own, which was typical of him, and surveying the area with a mild curiosity. Finally he noticed a small group of young giggling women, and made a bee-line towards them. 

The wave of jealousy that followed hit Chakotay completely by surprise and only grew as he watched the pilot flash a charming smile and say something to elicit giggles from the little group. He tried to brush it off. He had no right to feel this way, he knew that. Especially considering where he currently was. Besides, they’d never agreed to be exclusive, hell they’d never agreed to anything at all. Chakotay still didn’t understand why Paris showed up in his cabin some nights, even if it had grown into an almost regular occurrence. And with that one exception on Trebus, he certainly never came to him planetside. He didn’t really know why, but watching Paris whisper something to one of the women to make her blush made him suspect he might have a good idea.

“Chakotay, Marva IV hailing the Maquis captain. Are you there?” Sveta’s teasing brought him back to himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, somewhat surprised at himself. “I guess my mind wandered.” 

“You missed how I finally got that Bulgallian sludge rat out of my cellar,” Sveta admonished, but she said it in good humour. 

“Please tell me you didn’t use a phaser," Chakotay joked, trying to settle back into the easy flirtatious conversation they’d been having before. But something uncomfortable had burrowed into the pit of his stomach, and wouldn’t leave. Sveka leaned into his chest this time when she topped off his drink, and Chakotay shifted to let her and tried to listen while she retold her story, but it didn’t feel right anymore. “I’m sorry,” he said, shifting away, and putting some distance between them, “but I don’t think tonight’s a good night.”

Sveta looked disappointed, but she accepted his apologies graciously. She didn’t even ask for an explanation. A quirk of their overly casual relationship Chakotay had always appreciated. “Next time, perhaps,” she suggested.

Chakotay agreed, and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek before heading back to his ship. “Next time.”

\--|--

_Paris watched helplessly as the shuttles exploded again and again and again. He knew but couldn’t see the people in there. Didn’t know but desperately wanted to know if they understood what had happened. That they were about to die? Did they know that it was his fault? Did they blame him?_

_But all Paris saw was a shuttle. A lifeless shell bursting spectacularly against the side of an asteroid. And Paris just watched, cold, lifeless, unable to feel either the beauty or the horror of the event._

 

Paris sat upright, breathing heavily and covered in a cold sweat. His hand was shaking as he reached over and grabbed his sheet. Focusing on the feel of the fabric against his hand, bringing himself back from the dream. He looked around the room and it took him a few moments to remember why he was planetside, in a large comfortable bed beside an open window. Even in the dark, he could make out the small figure of a woman curled up nearby. He didn’t even know her name.

Slowly, so as not to wake her, he crawled out of the bed and found his clothes.

\--|--

By the time Paris managed to stumble his way back on to the _Val Jean_ he was nicely buzzed again, and any unpleasant thoughts and feelings from when he woke up, happily banished at least until tomorrow and he was just making his way past the mess to his quarters when he heard voices.

“They can’t!” It was Chakotay and his voice was shaking his anger. “I won’t let them.”

Paris should have kept going to his quarters, but his curiosity got the better of him and he crept down where he could hear better through the old vents in the bulkhead.

“Are you sure?” Ayala was with him.

“We got the plans from the data you got off Gul Evek’s computer.” It was a woman’s voice, but Paris didn’t recognize it. Someone from the colony no doubt. “It’s all here. And there’s been reports of Cardassian surveyors spotted on Dorvan. They want to build a colony. They’ll probably be ready to start settling as early as next month.”

“And how long will it be before they start overtaking the locals?” spat Ayala.

“After what they did to Trebus, to my home. These are my people.” Chakotay spoke in a low voice. “These planets are all we have.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you and your crew to stop them,” said the woman. “Use whatever force you think is necessary. Let the spoonheads know they’re not welcome on our worlds.”

\--|--

Two days later the crew of the Val Jean were well rested and ready for anything. But before they could take off there was one more matter that Chakotay wanted to deal with.

“Are you sure he’s trustworthy?” he asked Sveta, sneaking one more glance over her shoulder to the dark and mysterious Vulcan sitting at a bar table behind her. He did need a new tactical officer, but not so much that he was willing to take any unnecessary risks.

“He gave us a lot of useful information when he defected. Things that helped us out a lot in our next few battles with the Federation,” said Sveta. “Besides, you know Vulcans can’t lie.”

“It would be nice to have a Vulcan on the bridge again,” Chakotay admitted. “They have a calming presence.” He made a decision right there and without waiting for an invitation, took the seat beside the Vulcan.

“My name’s Chakotay,” he said holding out his hand. “I have an offer for you.”

The Vulcan took his hand. “Tuvok,” he introduced himself. “Your reputation precedes you, Captain.”

“Good, then we can cut the crap. I hear you have personal reasons for wanting to hurt the Cardassians. Well so do we. Come work for me on tactical, I’ll pay you well, and you’ll get the chance you’re looking for the hit them back for whatever it was they did to you.”

“Your offer is more than adequate,” answered the Vulcan in a typical stiff tone. “I accept.”

\--|--

Chakotay’s hands kept tightening and relaxing around the data padd he was holding in his hands. As a crew, they had done missions like this a thousand times, but already he could feel that this was going to be different. This wasn’t just helping out a colony or warning off encroaching Cardassians. This was personal.

“I say we hit’m hard,” said Ayala. He was sitting around a table in the mess with Seska, Tuvok, Torres and Chakotay. With most of the rest of the crew, including Paris standing or sitting nearby and listening in. The stolen Cardassian plans were all laid out in data padds in front of them. “Sabotage, explosions, whatever we can throw at them. Let them know it’s not safe settling in this area of space.”

“Agreed,” said Seska. “Let’s get them back for all of our colonies that they’ve attacked.”

“No,” said Chakotay, in a low but firm voice, surprising everyone at the table. “We’re not in this for revenge,” he said.. “I won’t stoop to their level.”

“You intend to prevent the Cardassians from colonizing without causing any deaths?” asked Tuvok. 

Chakotay looked at the Vulcan. Was he just asking for clarification? Or was he surprised? skeptical? It was always hard reading Vulcans, and he hadn’t been around long enough yet for Chakotay to get a good feel for him.

“How would we manage that exactly?” asked Seska, her voice oozingly patronizing. “Just go in and ask them nicely to leave Dorvan alone?”

“Actually, I think I have an idea.” It was Torres. She passed one of her padds to Chakotay. “It’s the schematics to their power generators. The Dorvans don’t use electricity, right?”

“You mean...” began Ayala.

Torres grinned. “If there’s no power, there’s no colony. Can you imagine Cardassian settlers without replicators? Heating units? Communication systems? If we took out the big plants, I think I can rig up a dampening field to kill the rest of their power sources.”

“It could be effective,” said Tuvok.

“We’ll need some things for the dampening field,” said Torres, “I can make you a list.”

“We’ll need explosives too,” added Ayala. “Something that can do real damage to the plants if we don’t want them to be able to repair them in a hurry.”

“There’s just one problem,” said Seska. “Where exactly are we going to get the supplies? Contacts willing to deal with us keep becoming fewer and far between.”

“What of the Ferengi on the Bajoran space station?” asked Tuvok. “I have heard that he deals in weapons.”

Chakotay shook his head. “He won’t deal with Maquis anymore. He says their shapeshifter security officer is watching him too closely these days.”

“He will if I contact him,” said Tuvok. “He owes me a favour from my time in Starfleet.”

“Really?” asked Seska.

“I allowed him to go free once when I could have arrested him,” Tuvok explained.

“That doesn’t sound very Vulcan-like.” pointed out Ayala.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “The misdemeanor was minor, and he had a young nephew who was dependent on him. I considered it a logical course of action.”

“Sounds Vulcan enough to me,” said Chakotay getting up and whacking Tuvok hard on the back of his shoulder. A gesture that made Tuvok stiffen in surprise. “Set it up,” he told him. “Let’s get this party started.”

While everyone was making their way out, Chakotay noticed Paris stumble a bit on his way past a chair. Chakotay glanced over at Ayala who was standing beside him. “He’s getting worse,” said Ayala. “The only time I see him sober these days is when he’s flying.”

Chakotay frowned.

\--|--

That night Chakotay stayed awake. And when he heard the familiar knocking on his cabin door--almost clockwork by this point--he got up and to open it manually.

Paris was there, swaying slightly, with ruffled hair. He seemed somewhat surprised to see Chakotay actually meet him at the door, but he smiled anyways. These midnight sojourns were probably the only time Paris ever smiled at the sight of him.

“I missed you,” he mumbled heavily, and tried to move into the cabin, but Chakotay blocked his way.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

Paris’ smile was more confused than amused. “So what?”

“I won’t sleep with you when you’re drunk. Your breath reeks, you’re sloppy and it’s too much work to keep your dick hard.”

The smile fell of Paris’ face completely then, and was replaced by a deep scowl. “So you’re getting picky now?”

“Yes,” said Chakotay. “Come back sober, or don’t come back at all.”

“Yeah, well fuck you,” said Paris. “You think you’re the only game in town in this hunk of metal? You’re nothing special.” He pushed off and stumbled back down the corridor, muttering something to himself that Chakotay couldn’t hear.

\--|--


	3. Deep Space Nine

“Hold still!” snapped Ayala grabbing Chakotay’s face by the chin and pointing it back towards him. “Before I take off half your eyebrow with this thing.” He raised the device in his other hand and went back to hiding Chakotay’s tattoo.

“So we all know the plan?” asked Chakotay, managing to resist the urge this time to look at his crew. There were five of them: Seska, Paris and Tuvok, along with Chaktoay and Ayala, standing around in another ship’s cargo bay, posing as crewmembers of a sympathetic freighter captain by the name of Kasidy Yates. 

“Seems simple enough,” said Seska. “Get on to the station, get the goods, leave the station. Try not to get recognized.”

The door opened and Captain Yates walked in. “Thought I’d let you guys know we’re docking in fifteen minutes,” she told them. “Remember, we’re scheduled to push off again at 1500h exactly. If you guys aren’t back I’m leaving without you, and if anything goes wrong or you guys get recognized, I’ll deny everything.” She looked up at Chakotay and smirked at the site of his bare forehead. “Though I see you’re already taking some precautions.”

Chakotay smiled back. “Don’t worry, Kasidy,” he said. “You’re doing more than enough already, if we get into trouble, we’ll handle it.”

“Hopefully there won’t be any trouble,” said Ayala. 

Chakotay glanced over his men, resting his eyes for just a moment longer on Paris. If trouble tended to follow any of them, it was him.

“Should have left him behind,” Ayala whispered when they were out of earshot of the others.

“He’s a trained Starfleet officer. He’ll be useful if we need backup,” said Chakotay. “Besides, he’s not drinking anymore.”

“I’m not sure that’s actually an improvement.” 

They were interrupted there by the arrival of the station’s security guards. 

One officer went over the cargo with Captain Yates while another, a young Bajoran, met with Chakotay’s crew. “You five all going aboard?” he asked. 

“That’s right,” said Chakotay. 

“Business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure, we want to do some shopping. Maybe get lunch.”

The Bajoran deputy nodded and pulled out a padd. “If you’ll just register here?” He held it out and Chakotay pressed his thumb down onto the padd.

There was a tense moment where he wondered if the fake thumb print would work, or if Starfleet had figured out a way around them yet. But a few seconds later his face appeared with the name ‘Michael Redsky’ in large bold font underneath and Chakotay let himself exhale.

“Thank you Mr Redsky,” he said, and moved on to the rest of the crew. 

Finally at the end of all the security procedures the deputy turned back to them. “One more thing. Please leave your weapons here, there are no weapons permitted on the promenade of Deep Space Nine.”

Everyone looked at Chakotay, a definite look of panic in some of their eyes. “You heard the man,” he told them, taking out his own phaser and leaving it on a nearby cannister. “Let’s go.”

“Busy place,” commented Ayala, trying not to stare at the huge diversity of aliens rushing up and down the promenade. A lot of Bajorans, a few Federation races, but so many alien species he didn’t even recognize. He wondered how many came from the Delta Quadrant.

Seska shrugged. “I guess so,” she said, disinterested. “Hey, you mind if I do a bit of shopping while we’re here? I’ll meet you in Quarks in half an hour.”

“Yeah sure,” said Ayala, still watching the crowds. “I kind of want to take a look around too.” He gave a boyish smile. “Maybe I can catch a glimpse of the wormhole if I’m lucky.”

\--|--

Seska walked into a small jewelery store, just out of the way of the main promenade and started browsing through the necklaces. A small, grumpy looking Bajoran came out and asked if she needed any help.

She picked up a small golden chain, “Does this come in platinum?”

“Platinum is out. Everyone’s wearing opal these days.”

“My sources tell me opal will be out again by next season. I want the platinum.”

The Bajoran stiffened and quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone in the store. “You have information for us?” he asked in a low voice.

“The Maquis are planning on stopping the settlement on Dorvan V.”

“Are our citizens in danger?” asked the shopkeeper.

“No,” said Seska. She sounded almost bitter about it. “They’re planning on going after the power generators.”

\--|--

Michael Eddington was going through his latest report before sending it off to Starfleet Command when Odo walked through his office door.

“Eddington,” he growled. “What happened to the prisoner in cell block B? He was released on your orders.”

Eddington swung his chair around. “Cell block B?” he asked, thinking back. “Cell block B,” he repeated a bit slower.

“With Gahg. The Orion Syndicate member.”

“Oh yes!” said Eddington brightly, snapping his fingers. “We cut a deal with him and let him go.”

“We!? On whose authority?”

Eddington blinked. “Why Starfleet Command’s of course,” he said amiably.

“And you never thought to inform me?” asked Odo. 

Eddington looked pained. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop, Constable.” He offered a placating smile. “I guess it got overlooked.”

Odo glowered. “Well see that it doesn’t happen again,” he said. “And another thing...”

But whatever that other thing was, Odo didn’t get a chance to say because at just that moment his office door opened and Tuvok stepped inside.

“Oh just on time!” chirped Eddington jumping out of his seat and ushering Odo out. “We’ll talk more later.” He said brightly. “I just need to deal with this first.”

When they were alone Eddington turned back into the room, the smile still plastered to his voice. “Ah Lieutenant Tuvok. We didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.”

“Indeed.” agreed Tuvok. “The opportunity seemed too convenient to pass up however.”

“Mmm, so what have you got for us?” 

Tuvok went over the whole thing from the beginning. When he finished, Eddington looked astonished. “Chakotay? Is on the station right now? How did he get past our security? What ship did he arrive on?”

“The Maquis have managed to procure false thumb prints from the Orion Syndicate that can fool your security padds,” Tuvok explained.. “As for how we arrived, we came pretending to be crew members on board a cargo freighter under the command of a Captain Kasidy Yates.”

“They’re good,” said Eddington. “And ballsy, actually coming on to the station. Who knew Quark could make such good bait?”

“What are your orders, sir?” asked Tuvok. “Will you be arresting them?”

Eddington bit his lip while he considered. “No,” he said after a while. “I don’t want to compromise your position so soon. I don’t want just Chakotay, I want to take down the whole resistance. And for that we need names, locations, supply sources. You’re in a good spot to get information, Lieutenant. I don’t want to lose that just yet.”

\--|--

Chakotay was mostly quiet as he made his way through the station’s promenade with Paris. Since that night two weeks ago, the pilot had seemed to have stopped drinking, but he hadn’t come back to Chakotay’s cabin. And Chakotay was surprised to find himself missing him a lot more than he thought he would. Still he didn’t regret what he did. It was better to have a sober pilot than a drunken lover, he thought. Though so far, being sober didn’t seem to agree much with the pilot. Since he stopped, Paris’ snark had turned into outright aggression, and oddly, he suddenly seemed a lot jumpier than Chakotay had ever seen him.

Paris glanced over at him.

“You keep doing that.” 

Paris glanced back again. “Doing what?”

“Looking at me.”

“I’m not looking at you.”

“Right,” said Chakotay.

Paris didn’t respond, and they walked a bit further in silence before Paris did it again.

“Alright, fine,” said Paris. “It’s the tattoo.”

“The tattoo?”

Paris shrugged. “It looks weird. Seeing you without it.”

Chakotay seemed amused, which made Paris roll his eyes. “Good weird or bad weird?” he prompted.

Paris glanced cautiously back over. “Good weird.” He finally answered.

Chakotay nodded. “I could keep it off a bit longer. Maybe overnight?”

Paris stopped walking, and Chakotay realised this was the first time he had acknowledged Paris’ nightly visits. “Hey, you kicked me out. Remember?”

Chakotay shrugged. “Maybe I’m asking you back.”

Paris look suspiciously back at Chakotay. “Yeah, well maybe I’m not that easy,” he said, with a hint of bitterness.

Chakotay just shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said and started walking back towards the bar.

Paris followed, and looked around when they got here. “Where did Tuvok go, anyways?”

“I thought it might be prudent to get a more familiar understanding of the station’s layout,” came a familiar voice from behind them. “In case plans go awry. I’ve discovered five separate routes we might take back to the freighter’s docking bay should it be needed.”

“Nice job,” said Chakotay. Then gesturing towards the bar, “Shall we, gentlemen?”

\--|--

When Seska arrived, five minutes ahead of schedule, Quarks was already packed. But she was relieved to see Ayala had somehow managed a table near the back room.

"Check it out," she said, holding a large stone necklace out for Ayala to see. "Pure Opal."

The others arrived shortly after, and Seska and Ayala watched as Paris broke off and found a small table on the other side of the back room while Chakotay and Tuvok went to the bar to find Quark.

"I still don't know why we brought him," said Ayala, taking a big swig of his ale, and glancing over at Paris. "Then again, I think we should have abandoned him on a moon months ago. The Captain seems to have a spot for him, but damned if I can figure it out."

Seska's eyes narrowed as something seemed to occur to her. "Say, Michael. Has Chakotay ever shown any interest in men?"

\--|--

Chakotay and Tuvok walked up to the bar. "We're looking for Quark," said Chakotay to one of the Ferengi bartenders. "We have business."

"Who's asking?" asked the Ferengi cautiously.

"We have an appointment,” said Chakotay, guardedly. "He has some merchandise we ordered."

The Ferengi's eyes widened in recognition. "Didn't recognize you without the tattoo," he said. Then he yelled across the room, "Rom! Take over here! I have business."

"Do you have everything?" asked Chakotay once they were in Quark's backroom and out of earshot, looking over the the box Quark handed him. 

"See for yourself."

Chakotay handed it over to Tuvok to inspect it properly. 

"Now, about the price," said Quark, smiling. "I know I quoted about 15 bars, but the derilium proved especially hard to get a hold of. It is a controlled substance you know..."

Chakotay grabbed Quark by his embroidered jacket. "Are you trying to cheat me, Ferengi?" he growled.

"It is all here," Tuvok said, while Quark was adamantly denying any wrong doing. Suddenly there was a crash outside.

Chakotay looked at Tuvok, "Please tell me it's not who I’m afraid it is," he said rushing over to the door.

\--|--

Paris had been sitting, minding his own business, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

"Paris, that you?" he looked up and saw a freckled human smirking at him. "I haven't seen you since you got drummed out of the service," he said obnoxiously loud. Paris was pretty sure he’d been drinking. "Last I heard you were drinking yourself stupid in some gutter in France."

Paris looked up and right into the face of an officer he hadn't seen since before he was discharged. "I think you've got me confused with someone else," he said, trying to keep his face as blank as possible. Ignoring the soft bubbling of anger he didn't seem to be able to get rid of at all these days. The truth was he didn’t really know him, not his name or much about him, but he recognized the face of someone he used to see around back in his academy days.

The Starfleet officer didn’t seem to believe him. “What you don’t remember me?” He smirked but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised, I remember you. You were always so full of it back at the academy. Thought you were better than all us little people because your daddy was an admiral.”

“I really think you should leave,” Paris said, trying again to get rid of him, keeping his voice as even as he could manage.

“Still too good for me?” asked the starfleet officer all traces of his fake smirk gone now. "You always were a cocky sonofabitch. You know that? So what've you been up to now that Starfleet’s come to their senses and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore? Crashing anymore shuttles lately?"

It was like something exploded inside of him. Paris was up like a shot and pushing the Starfleet officer up against the wall before he even realised he was doing it. "You wanna say that again?" he asked. 

"Yeah," said the officer loudly. "You're a shit pilot and it got your friends killed."

Paris moved to punch him, but the Starfleet officer ducked out just in time and Paris’ fist connected hard against the wall. Paris was so angry he barely felt it.

“What?” asked the officer behind Paris now. “Don’t like being reminded what a shit you are?” The officer was genuinely smiling now.

Paris charged him, and this time he didn't get out of the way on time and both men went crashing through the occupied tables behind them. It was an all out fight then, with patrons scrambling to get away, and at least one Ferengi making high pitched noises nearby in an attempt to get them to stop. 

When Chakotay saw what was going on, he started to rush towards Paris. He was so furious, going to kill him, and then he was going to nurse back to health so he could do it again. Except something was holding him back.

"You cannot get involved, Captain," Tuvok hissed in his ear, dragging him away from the fight. "You will be discovered if they arrest you."

Chakotay hesitated, then reluctantly left the bar just in time to see Paris flung across a set of tables and two security guards chasing after him.

\--|--

"Well he's all yours constable," said Dr. Bashir on his way out of the brig. "He had a concussion, and quite a bit of bruising, but I think I patched him up pretty well."

Odo nodded and made his way to the prisoner. "Thomas Eugene Paris," he said to the brooding young man on the other side of the forcefield. "Son of Admiral Owen Paris, and a former Starfleet officer. That is before you were dishonourably discharged over falsified testimony. I wonder how you came to find yourself so far away from home, hmm?" Paris didn't acknowledge him. "Although what I find most interesting is that there's no record of you coming aboard this station. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that." 

"Sounds to me like someone's not doing their job, then," said Paris. 

"Maybe," said Odo. "Maybe you could help me by telling me what ship you arrived on?"

"There's no laws against coming on board a Federation space station," said Paris. "Why don't you just charge me for the fight and leave me alone?"

"There is if you forged your way through, Mr Paris," said Odo. "And trust me, I will figure this out before you're released."

Paris didn't answer and Odo deciding he'd gotten what he could out of him for now, left.

\--|--

It was only maybe another half an hour before the doors to the brig opened again, and this time Michael Eddington stepped through. "Mr Paris," he said brightly turning off the forcefield, "you're released."

But Paris didn't leave his cell. "Just like that?" he asked. "I thought I was in here overnight."

"We can't have the admiral's son locked up for something as petty as a little bar fight," said Eddington amiably.

Paris took a step back, retreating further into his cell. "How about I just wait here and leave tomorrow as planned," he said. "I don't need any favours from dear old Dad, thanks."

Eddington sighed. "Your friends are leaving the station in fifteen minutes with or without you," he said. "Now why not stop looking a gift horse in the mouth and just accept the help? Mmm?"

Paris looked back at Eddington, in a way that distinctly reminded him of a time he’d tried to feed a wild animal in a zoo, but finally he decided to take the offer and rushed off. _Well, I can't say Odo is going to like this_. Thought Eddington as he watched Paris disappear but shrugged it off. He'll bluff his way through like he always did.

\--|--

"I say we just leave him," said Ayala. "He causes more trouble than he's worth anyways."

"He's a good pilot," said Chakotay. "We won't get another half as good."

"You can fly as well as he can," said Seska, loyally. 

"Trying to free Paris would be inadvisable. Even if we were successful, there is no way we could rendezvous with Captain Yates' ship before the departure time. And the chances of compromising ourselves in the attempt, or being discovered if we decide to wait until he is released tomorrow, are not in our favour."

"We got we came for," agreed Ayala. "Let's just go."

"Aw, are you guys waiting around for little ol’ me?" The group turned around to see Paris standing there, looking as cocky as ever. “Didn’t know you cared.”

"How did you get out?" asked Tuvok.

"Save the questions for later," said Chakotay moving off and heading for the docking bays. "We'll miss our ride if we don't hurry."


	4. Dorvan V

When Paris stepped out of the shuttle, he was immediately overwhelmed by the dry dusty atmosphere of Dorvan V. As they started to move out, a heavy gust of wind suddenly blasted sand against his face, nearly blinding him before he could shield himself properly. When it over he blinked and automatically searched out Chakotay who was leading them.

He finally spotted him a few metres ahead with the rest of the group, walking through the dust storms like they were nothing, and seemingly unaware that Paris was falling behind. It was Torres who noticed and took a few steps back to help. Paris yanked his arm away at the unexpected touch. “I’m fine!” he snapped, and picked his pace to prove it.

“Don’t mention it,” Torres called sarcastically from somewhere behind him.

He ignored her.

When they finally made it to the village, they were met by the planet’s chief. A broad man, with skin that looked well weathered from the desert atmosphere, dark and cracked. With grey wispy hair tied back in a long braid. His face cracked into a wide smile when he saw them approach. “Chakotay, my old friend.” he called. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you as well Anthwara.” He took a step back to reveal the rest of his party and introduce them.

Anthwara looked them over and nodded. “Come quickly,” he said. “Before you’re seen.”

“Where is your ship?” he asked them as they went.

“Back on Marva IV,” said Chakotay. “We brought a shuttle and hid it a few miles from here with your other ships. It shouldn’t be noticed.”

Anthwara led the group to a group of large interconnected concrete buildings, into a large room with no windows and one door and six cots strewn across the floor.

“How luxurious,” said Paris with a sardonic tone.

He was ignored.

“The Cardassians will be suspicious if they see any non-humans around. You must be careful,” said Antwara.

“We’ll be fine. Thank you," said Chakotay, and gave him one last hug before he left. Once they were alone he turned to his crew. “We’ll sleep here during the day, and do what we need to do once the sun’s down and there’s less guards to avoid.” 

“You can’t be serious,” said Paris.

"Don’t start, Paris,” snapped Ayala. “If you want to make living together more tolerable for the next little while, the least you could do is shut up every once in a while.” One glance around the room told Chakotay everyone else supported Ayala.

He was ready to step in and tell everyone to let it go when he noticed Paris‘ face go completely blank. “Whatever,” he said flatly. “Don’t bother me I won’t bother any of you.” He walked over to the cot closest to the far wall and laid down facing away from everyone else. 

Chakotay turned to the rest of the crew, ready to snap at anyone who kept it going, but they were all just as tired as he was, and one by one they all moved to the other cots, finally leaving only the one near Paris empty. 

Chakotay sighed and took it for himself. He hoped this morning wasn’t going to be an indication of how the rest of this mission was going to go.

\--|--

Chakotay woke up a few hours later, the sun, still just barely out when they’d arrived was shining full force under the door. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Chakotay to see that Paris’ cot was empty.

They hadn’t been asleep long, and Chakotay had to force himself to get up out of bed rather than just turning over and going back to sleep like he wanted to. And it was only because he didn’t want to wake anyone else up that he didn’t curse Paris out on his way out.

The whole building felt different than when he’d arrived. The village was active now, and there were people coming and going, and the halls echoed with the murmur of adults talking and children playing. No one paid much attention to Chakotay, but he supposed he didn’t really stand out here the way he did most other places.

“Hey, have you seen a blond guy around here?” he asked a young man walking by.

“Yeah, I saw one upstairs just now. Didn’t look too good.”

Chakotay turned and headed up the stairs. He found Paris pretty quickly. He was standing in the hall, he’d gotten a cup of tea somehow and was sipping while staring out a window.

The man he’d met downstairs was right, he was not looking good. He had bags under his eyes, which was usual for Paris, but he was looking very pale and worn down. Chakotay wondered if he always did and he just didn’t usually look.

Chakotay approached him. “You alright?”

Paris started, not expecting Chakotay’s presence, and as Chakotay watched, the painful lines etched into his face seemed to fade and Paris was giving him his usual rebellious grin. But then when he answered he fidgeted a bit with his drink and didn’t make eye contact. “Yeah, just having some trouble sleeping,” he said. His eyes focused on something outside the window. “Is it always this bad here?”

Chakotay moved over so he could see what Paris was looking at. The village was full of Cardassian soldiers on patrol. He saw them standing in corners, and at entranceways, harassing people passing through, drinking and just being obnoxiously loud. 

“Yeah,” he answered. “It all started here you know. The demilitarized zone, the Maquis movement, all of it. The Cardassians wanted this planet specifically and we refused to leave. So the Federation sent a starship to remove us all by force if necessary. Dorvan’s always had it worse than the other planets. It’s almost a symbolic target at this point. For both sides.”

“And a bunch of people caught in the middle who just want to live their lives in peace, I bet.”

Chakotay didn’t answer. “You should go back to bed. We have a big night ahead of us.”

Paris shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of the way. Besides what do Cardassians know about humans? They won’t be able to tell I’m not from around here if I run into anybody.”

Chakotay gave Paris one more look over. “If you get tired, come back and sleep. I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.” Paris nodded and Chakotay pushed off and patted his shoulder. “Be careful, and we’ll see you at sundown.” 

He started to walk away but Paris caught his arm, “Wait!"

When Chakotay turned to ask what he wanted Paris caught his lips with his own. Chakotay pulled away to speak, “Tom...” he started, but once they were separated he couldn’t remember what he could possibly have wanted to say that was more important than kissing Paris again and let himself get pulled back into the kiss.

\--|--

“You should go to bed," said Paris after a while. They had found somewhere a bit more out of the way, though still too public for them to do anything it was a quiet enough area that they at least felt comfortable talking.

“I don’t want to sleep, I want to talk,” said Chakotay, but even as he spoke he had to stifle a yawn, and Paris could see he was blinking a lot. He shifted his weight to the corner of the couch in a way that let Chakotay rest his head on Paris’ chest. Chakotay didn’t resist. “You can talk to me you know. If you need to talk to someone,” he said. 

Paris didn’t answer, and for a little while they just sat like that until finally Chakotay’s breathing steadied and Paris knew he’d fallen back asleep.

He stroked Chakotay’s hair because he wanted to, and because he knew Chakotay wouldn’t know either way, and wondered how he could talk about something he barely understood himself. And what he did understand he didn’t think he could ever talk about. So instead he focused on the warm weight on his chest and Chakotay’s soft breathing and let himself relax under it while he waited for sun to set.

\--|--

Seska was lying awake when the door to their room slowly opened and the familiar silhouettes of two men entered the room. She watched as they both stopped in the doorway and Chakotay grabbed Paris’ shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Even as just shadows she could see the familiarity between them. The way Paris who bristled at everyone leaned into his touch, the way Chakotay took his time telling Paris what he needed to and seemed reluctant to separate again when they’d finish.

They separated and Chakotay went to light a lamp and wake the group.Seska watched Paris collect his things with cold eyes. She needed to deal with him soon.

\--|--

Half an hour later the beds were all pushed to the side and the group was gathered around a small table in the middle of the room.

“The Cardassian colony is about 5 miles north of here, just down this river,” Chakotay explained, pointing out the areas on a 3D holographic map. “The generators are over here.”

“That’s awfully close to the colony,” pointed out Torres. “If those generators go, they’re going to wipe out half of the housing.”

“According to the reports we’ve found, they shouldn’t start moving families in for another week or two,” Ayala pointed out.

Torres relaxed and nodded while Chakotay continued. “And over here, this mountain is the highest point on the planet. That’s where Tom is going to take B’elanna to set up the dampening field. That should wipe out all communications and portable power sources planet-wide. Once you two are finished there, I want you to bring the shuttle back here and rendezvous with us here.” He pointed to a small clearing near the river. “So B’elanna can help us set up the explosives to take out the generators. We’ll use the chaos created from the explosion and the dampening field as cover to get off the planet without detection. Any questions?” Nobody had any. “Good. B’elanna, Tom, get your things, I’ll lead you back to the shuttle.”

Seska waited until about an hour after they’d left. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she announced to Ayala and Tuvok as she put her cloak on, covering her head in enough shadow that the ridges on her nose were hidden. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

\--|--

“Remember, keep the engines low and nothing but essential systems and you shouldn’t be detected,” Chakotay repeated as Torres and Paris climbed into the shuttle. “We’ll see you at the rendezvous in a few hours. Try not to be late.”

“We’ll probably beat you there,” said Paris almost giddy at the chance to do some tricky flying as hopped into the shuttle.

“Just don’t anything stupid!” Chakotay called after him as the shuttle door closed and Paris prepared to power up the engines.

\--|--

“Not a very high mountain, is it?” commented Torres when their destination came into view through the shuttle’s headlights. Paris had to agree, while not insignificant at 3 km above sea level it was nothing compared to the large majestic mountains you found back on earth. The hilly terrain full of wilderness instead of snow and large surface area didn’t help much either.

“Still high enough to be chilly, better grab a jacket,” said Paris as he put them down in a small valley just below the mountain’s summit.

They were mostly quiet while they unloaded the shuttle and carried their equipment up the hill. 

Finally Torres asked, “You’re pretty quiet today. Where are all the smartass remarks?”

Paris shrugged. “Guess I’m having a good day. Why, do you miss them? Because I can oblige.” He stopped walking. “This looks like a good place.”

Torres pushed him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t push it,” she said. They set down the dampener and Torres kneeled down to get to work. “Hold that light steady,” she told him. “And pass me that hyperspanner.” 

Time passed as they worked. Paris knew a bit about engineering from the few required courses at the academy on it, but it was something else to watch Torres in action. What they were doing was taking a regular dampener, the kind you might use for a single room and amplifying it about a thousand fold. And the way she was going about making the modifications were mostly simple jobs but not the kind of thing Paris would have ever even considered. He wondered if Chakotay was aware of how brilliant an engineer he had.

They had nearly finished when they heard the sound of people beaming in nearby. It was hard to tell, but Paris thought he saw at least 6 Cardassian silhouettes moving around 3 metres in front of them. 

“Stop whatever it is you’re doing!” they yelled running over to them.

Paris shut his light off and rushed the right before taking the first shot at them, making them draw their weapons and rush behind a group of nearby rocks.

Paris grabbed Torres to do the same. “Cover me, I’m grabbing the dampener," she called out. 

“Are you crazy?”

“If we can turn it on, we’ll render their weapons useless,” she pointed out. “They also won’t be able to use their transporter beams and communication devices.”

Paris fired a few more shots just over the rocks the Cardassians were hiding behind while Torres picked up the machine and dragged it to cover. 

“So what happens when you turn it on?” Paris asked her, exchanging fire with the other Cardassians. “They still outnumber us at least three to one.”

“We high-tail it to the shuttle as fast as we can,” said Torres.

More shots exchanged. “That’s your brilliant plan?”

“You have a better one?”

She took a couple shots herself. One over top of the Cardassian’s cover and one hitting one of the rocks they were behind. Paris felt a chill go through him. Without warning suddenly he was back watching those shuttles explode against the meteor. When he came too he had been pushed to the ground and Torres was alternating between exchanging fire and looking furiously at him,

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” she yelled. “Do you want to die?”

Paris ignored her and looked away as he tried to push away the memories. He’d deal with that later. Or not at all if he could help it. “Is the machine ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, almost," she said, still exchanging fire. She talked him through the last couple of steps, which Paris did as fast as he could while trying to ignore his shaking hands and suddenly the shooting stopped.

Torres shoved the machine with one hand under some underbrush so it wasn’t visible and they ran. 

It wasn’t long before the Cardassians stopped chasing their own tales and started chasing after them. 

The Cardassians were almost on them by the time they got to the shuttle. Paris jumped in first and started up the engines, Torres was almost in when one of the Cardassians grabbed her leg. She kicked his stomach and then his head with her other leg and he let go just as the shuttle was starting to rise. 

“You alright?” Paris called back to her.

“Yeah,” she answered. Breathing heavily she watched the Cardassians grow ever smaller between the closing shuttle doors. 

“I don’t know how good a job we did," she told Paris, taking the co-pilot seat. “If they find the dampener, it won’t take them long to figure out how to stop it."

“We’ll worry about that later.l," said Paris looking worried.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“They beamed down, right?” said Paris.

Torres’ eyes widened. “Which means there’s a ship. Which would have picked up our shuttle before we turned to dampener on.”

As if on cue, a giant galor-class Cardassian warship suddenly sank down through the clouds. “Oh shit, shit, shit,” said Torres.

“It’s alright," said Paris gunning the engines. “We’re blocking its sensors. It only has visuals so long as we stay within the atmosphere.”

Sure enough the first few shots the warship took missed them entirely as Paris flipped and dove through the air around them to avoid them. 

“Somehow that’s not very comforting,” said Torres. “Oh God, we’re going to die," she said in shock as Paris narrowly evaded another phaser shot from the warship.

“I have an idea,” said Paris suddenly reversing engines and heading back towards the warship.

“What are you doing!?”

“We need to lose them,” he said. “Which will be easier if we move into a blind spot.”

He stopped almost right underneath the ship. 

“Oh my God, this is insane.”

“I know,” said Paris, “But I couldn’t think of what else to do.” He kept pace with the ship, as it went one way and the other, trying to figure out where the tiny shuttle had gone too. Once or twice he narrowly managed to stay beneath it as the warship would suddenly veer left or right, probably suspecting the shuttle of doing exactly what it was doing. Finally Paris saw his chance as the ship passed low over a heavily forested and Paris stalled the engines and brought the shuttle down carefully avoiding as many branches as he could. 

“I hope it’s flat terrain down there, I don’t want to risk turning on the ship’s lights to find out.” 

It wasn’t, and once Paris touched down the whole shuttle suddenly tilted heavily to the left. They held still for a minute waiting to see if the ship was going to move again, and once they seemed to be stable Paris shut down the engines.

“You don’t think Chakotay’s going to mind a few scratches on his shuttle, do you?” asked Paris, finally taking a moment to breathe. He was shaking badly now, but still feeling the euphoria of having just gotten out of a life or death situation. He turned to look at Torres for the first time since the Cardassians showed up. She was leaning back in her chair looking as relieved as Paris felt, and clutching her shoulder. Paris couldn’t see why, but he could see she was wincing, and a distinct red mark under the ripped material of her sleeve.

“What happened?” he reached for her hand to get a better look.

“It’s fine.” she said, backing off. “I got shot pushing your sorry ass out of harm’s way.”

Paris blinked, how had he missed that. “There’s a med kit in the back. Come on.” he said, crawling into the back room and digging it out. “Sit down.” He motioned towards the bed while he dug out the medical tricorder, two models out of date, he noticed with a bit of amusement, even the one he’d used at the academy was newer than this.

Torres eyed him suspiciously but did as he said and let him scan her. “Second degree burns, that’s got to hurt,” he said and found the dermal regenerator. “Alright, this is old, so it might take a few minutes, but you should start feeling better in a few minutes.

Torres sat patiently while Paris worked, he was impressed, most people he knew would have been screaming in pain, but Torres managed to bare it with little more than a testy attitude and a bit of wincing.

“I have to say, Paris, I never took you for the medical practitioner type," she said.

“I just a took a few courses at the academy. It runs in my family though, my mother’s a nurse and my sister’s a doctor.”

“You have a sister?” asked Torres. 

“Two.” Paris grinned as he worked. “Both older. They made my life a living hell growing up. You wouldn’t believe the things they did to me. Tossing me in the pond behind the house. Dressing me up pretty dresses of theirs they’d outgrown.” 

Torres snorted. “You’re serious?”

“Oh they did it all. They even did my hair and nails," said Paris. “I was only 3 or 4 at the time. I still have the holo-images somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing those sometime.”

“If we ever set foot back on earth I’ll find them for you,” Paris promised as he finished up. “There, good as new. How do you feel?” he asked putting the tools away.

“Oh wow, already?” She tested out her shoulder. “It feels much better. Thank you.” 

“It was no problem. Burns are usually pretty simple.” 

Torres frowned. “You should tell the captain you have medical training.”

Paris shook his head and made his way back to the cockpit. “Yeah, that’s what I need, to play nurse with a bunch of guys who can’t even stand to be around me. I bet they’d love that,” he drawled. “Come on, the Cardassian ship should be long gone by now, we have to meet the others.”

Torres followed him out. “You know, you’re pretty hard to pin down, Paris.”

Paris didn’t have an answer for that so he let it be. “Alright, powering engines. Let’s hope they don’t find the dampener before we get to the rendezvous,” he announced and took off.

\--|--

“They’re late," Ayala pointed out. “The dampening field went up over an hour ago.”

“One hour and thirty-three minutes ago, to be exact,” said Tuvok.

“Too long," Chakotay agreed.

“Maybe something happened to them,” suggested Seska. 

“Trouble does seem to find Paris,” Ayala agreed. “Maybe we should just go on without them, try to find out what happened after we’re done.”

“No,” said Chakotay firmly. “We keep waiting.”

“And if something did happen to them?” asked Seska.

“Then we’re in a lot of trouble because we need that shuttle to get off the planet before the Cardassians turn it inside out looking for us,” Chakotay pointed out. He stared back at the clearing with his jaw clenched. Where could they be?

\--|--

“This isn’t the rendezvous point.” Torres pointed out when she saw where Paris was landing the shuttle.

“I know,” said Paris. “We’re a few miles north of it.”

“Can I ask why?” said Torres eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Paris brought the shuttle down slowly, risking only enough light to find a flat plain to put it down securely. “How did those Cardassians find us?” asked Paris.

“They must have picked up the shuttle somehow.”

“There was no way they should have seen our shuttle unless they were scanning for it specifically.”

“You think someone betrayed us?”

“I dunno," Paris admitted. “But better safe than sorry. If we walk to the rendezvous we can scout it, make sure there’s no one around who shouldn’t be.”

Torres nodded and followed Paris to get their things. “But who could betray us?”

Paris shrugged. “I dunno. Tuovk maybe? He’s pretty new. Though I have a hard time seeing a Vulcan working for the Cardassians.”

“Well it’s not Ayala or Seska,” said Torres firmly. “They’re my best friends.”

Paris just shrugged and climbed out of the shuttle behind Torres. “Could be anyone. Could be someone back on the ship, someone on Dorvan. Could be a really unlucky coincidence.”

“Not anyone,” said Torres. “Not Chakotay.”

Paris smiled. “No, but he might personally track down murder any actual traitors if he thought there was one.”

When he glanced over at Torres she was looking at him oddly. “It’s you, isn’t it?” 

“What?”

“I should have seen it. Seska is convinced that Chakotay is involved with somebody on the crew. And Ayala thinks you’re more of a liability than an asset, he can’t figure out why Chakotay keeps you around. Especially when it seems like he’s furious with you more often than not.”

Paris felt his face flush, which only seemed to confirm Torres’ suspicions. He looked forward to being in the dark forrest soon where he wouldn’t betray himself quite so well. “I think calling it ‘involved’ is making more out of it than it actually is.”

“So I am right," answered Torres, a definite sound of satisfaction in her tone. “I guess I just had to see this side of you. To see what he sees in you, to put it all together.”

It felt so strange getting a compliment, Paris wasn’t sure what to do with it. Out of the shuttle now and ready to move he pointed out a group of three stars in front of them. “See that triangle up ahead?” he asked. “We need to follow the one on the bottom left corner to get the rendezvous.”

“Well?" asked Torres as they walked. “Could you at least tell me how it happened?”

“He kept letting me,” answered Paris honestly. “Anything past that, you’d have to ask Chakotay.”

\--|--

Chakotay and the others noticed the lights first. Making their way slowly through the trees. And were relieved a second later to see Torres and Paris step out into the clearing.

“What happened?” demanded Chakotay.

“We were ambushed,” said Paris. “About half a minute before we finished setting up the dampening field. We landed a few miles off in case there were more Cardassians around.”

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know," said Paris, “but it’s worth considering that they might have gotten wind what we’re doing.”

Chakotay clenched his jaw. 

“Maybe you were detected flying up,” Ayala suggested.

“I was not,” answered Paris hotly. 

“Whether he was or not, the Cardassians know we’re up to something,” Torres cut in. “We need to be careful and work quickly.”

Chakotay nodded. “Torres, you and Paris are with me. We’ll take the generator on the North shore, Tuvok, you take Ayala and Seska and deal with the generator on the South. When we’ve got the explosives set up, we meet back here to detonate them and get back to the shuttle as fast we can.” 

The generator was a large standalone structure beside the river surrounded by a large metal fence with two sets of Cardassian guards patrolling it and the housing area surrounding it. 

“Our best bet would be to approach it from the river bank," said Chakotay. “We can cut our way in there and set up the explosives.”

They approached as silently as they could. Though as Paris moved, something in the back of his mind was bothering him, though he wasn’t sure what. He glanced over towards the housing units again, no sign of either guard, still, and tried to put it out of his mind.

The gate was so close to the river, they had to walk in the shallow water to get to it. Paris eyed the river suspiciously, he didn’t trust them since Trebus. 

Finally they stopped and Torres crouched down and pulled out a large cutting tool. “The dampening fields should take care of the charge,” she said, then she reached out and physically touched the gate to make sure. She started to cut the wire one by one. When there was a large enough whole they slipped through to the generator itself.

Torres and Chakotay begun to set up the explosives while Paris kept guard. He watched for a while without any sign of either set of guards. “How long does it take to patrol a bunch of empty houses?” he asked.

“Isn’t that good news?” asked Torres as she worked. 

“Yeah, just...” before Paris could finish his thought he saw a couple guards turn a corner and start walking up towards them. “I just spotted two guards, heading straight over here. They’ll hear us pretty soon.”

“B’elanna, how much longer do you need?” whispered Chakotay.

“Another ten minutes," Torres whispered back. “Think you can keep them away from here that long?”

Chakotay motioned for Paris to follow him and the slipped back out from behind the fence as quietly as they could and rushed back down the river. 

“Hey you!” the Cardassians yelled when they spotted them. “Hold it!”

Chakotay and Paris ran, leading them off as far away from the generator as they could in between the other new buildings for the colony.

“Stop or we’ll shoot!” yelled the Cardassians. 

“Think the dampening field is still up?” asked Paris between breaths.

“We’re about to find out,” Chakotay answered right behind him. “This way!” he called turning down an alley. “If we can make it to the trees, we can lose them.”

Behind them they could hear the Cardassians yelling, “Our weapons aren’t working. Head them off that way! Don’t let them get to the trees or we’ll lose them!”

“They’re on to us.” said Paris. They turned another corner and came up against a solid steel wall. 

“Shit,” said Chakotay turning around just in time to see a pair of Cardassians turn the corner behind them and pull out a pair of blades. 

“Hold it right there!” one of the Cardassians called out pulling out a torchlight and shining it on them. He looked disappointed. “It’s only a couple humans from the village down the river.” He pointed the light right in Chakotay’s eyes. “See those markings on the forehead, half of the humans here have them. They scar their faces up like that on purpose. It’s vile.” He turned his attention to Chakotay and Paris. “What are you doing down here?”

Paris looked blankly at Chakotay. “We were hunting and we lost our way,” said Chakotay. “We were just following the river home.”

The Cardassian shone the light around. “Where’s your catch?” he asked.

“Bad night for hunting,” answered Chakotay. “Looks like the desert caribou have moved on.”

“And where are your weapons?” Both Chakotay and Paris showed their hand guns, careful not to hold it by the handle or look threatening in any way, and Chakotay hoped the Cardassian didn’t know that the people here usually prefered to hunt with phaser rifles. Not that he could see anything with that light shining in their eyes.

“Looks alright to me,” said the second Cardassian guard. 

“So can we go?” asked Paris impatiently. 

The Cardassians sneered. “A pair of trespassing humans? I think we should haul them in and ID them.”

“On whose authority?” demanded Chakotay suddenly. “We don’t recognize your government here!”

That seemed to be all the Cardassian guards needed. They started approaching Paris and Chakotay. “Alright, come quietly and nobody needs to be hurt,” warned the first guard.

“Put the guns on the ground and turn around please,” said the second.

Paris glanced over Chakotay and saw him nod almost imperceptibly. They both set the guns down and started to turn and the second the Cardassians let their guard down they both grabbed the weapon closest to them. Paris flipped his Cardassian guard while Chakotay elbowed his in the stomach and in less than a few minutes both guards were down and unconscious. 

“You alright?” Paris asked Chakotay. He glanced over and Chakotay was breathing heavily, and looking down at the Cardassians with cold black eyes that made Paris shudder.

“We should be getting back,” he said picking his gun back up. “B’elanna will be done by now.”

They rounded another corner when something hard suddenly connected with Paris’ stomach. Of course, thought Paris, there were two more guards.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” They asked Paris and Chakotay, both of them now doubled over.

“We were hunting...from the village, down river,” Paris managed.

One of the Cardassians walked over and grabbed Paris’ face. “A little pale to be from this planet, aren’t you?” He pushed him down into street. “Let’s lock them up. I’d bet you anything we have a pair of Maquis terrorists here.”

They picked Chakotay up by his shirt collar and shoved him stomach first against the wall to handcuff him. Then they picked up Paris to do the same thing. That was when he saw it--halfway to his feet, turned around and choking from the Cardassian guard pulling back his shirt collar, a movement in a window, and just for a second he could make out the head of a small child sticking it’s face up against the window watching what was going on outside. Then just as quickly, Paris had been spun around and shoved up against the wall beside Chakotay.

He waited for the handcuffs, but instead of the feel of mini forcefeilds around his wrists he heard a sort of soft fwap sound followed by what sounded like sacks of flour falling on the floor.

“Hey, who--” The Cardassian holding Pars started started to say when someone punched him hard in the jaw, knocking him back away from Paris. He turned around and he was pretty sure he never saw anything more beautiful in his life as B’elanna Torres single handedly taking down a Cardassian guard with her bare hands. Once he was out of commission she reached into his pocket and grabbed the key for Chakotay’s handcuffs. 

“All the Cardassians in the quadrant and we had to get the only one who can differentiate between human ethnicities,” muttered Chakotay as she worked to free him.

“I came looking when you guys never came back,” Torres explained. “Glad I did, you guys alright?”

“Yeah, just as soon as I get my wind back,” said Paris. “Great timing by the way.”

“Did you finish setting up the explosives?” asked Chakotay already setting off back towards the rendezvous point.

“Yeah, we’re good to go,” said Torres. “One press of a button and all that will be left of that generator is a smoking crater.”

Paris felt his heart skip a beat. He grabbed Chakotay’s arm and hissed his ear. “You can’t do this!”

Chakotay stopped dead. “Do what? Blow up the generators?”

“I saw someone. A kid in one of those housing units.”

“So?”

Paris felt his whole body go cold. “So there could be more. This entire colony could be filled with people.”

“You want to throw all this work away over a possibility?”

“A strong possibility.”

“This is ridiculous.” Chakotay started to walk away again.

Paris just watched, too startled by Chakotay’s reaction to react at first. “Wow, your sister’s right about you,” he said when he finally did speak. “This is about revenge. You just want to hurt them”

Chakotay stopped and turned back around. To Paris he looked dangerously calm. “This isn’t about me, this is about them. We’re fighing for a cause here!” 

“What cause? What will this accomplish? This won’t stop anything. They’ll build new generators. And we left six Cardassians on that hilltop with the dampener, they’ll find it the second daylight hits.”

”But they‘ll know we‘re fighting back! That they can‘t screw with us!” yelled Chakotay, so suddenly he startled Paris. 

Paris held his ground. “So it’s okay so long as you just kill Cardassians?” he asked. 

“They didn’t seem to care when they wiped out my home village.” Chakotay’s voice shook as he spoke and even the dark, Paris could see underneath the angry expression a pair of sparkling eyes from unshed tears.

“Have you ever been responsible for someone else’s death?” asked Paris. “I don’t mean killing in self defense, or under orders. I mean, personally being responsible for killing innocent people?” When Chakotay didn’t answer right away, he went on. “Because I have. And let me tell you, it never goes away. Right now you’re angry, and you’re hurt and it’s making this look like a good idea right now. But one day you are going to heal, and that anger and pain will dull and you will be able to move on, but this? This will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Chakotay didn’t answer. He turned around and started back up the hill. A few metres ahead of them Paris could see Torres, having noticed she was alone standing and waiting for them. “Remember how worried B’elanna was when she thought there might be people living here? You’re conscience isn’t the only one at stake.” Chakotay showed no indication he heard him. “Remember waking up today and finding me shaking and pale with a cup of tea? Imagine that being you for the rest of your life.”

Chakotay did pause there if for only a second before but continuing back to the rendezvous point.

\--|--

Seska, Tuvok and Ayala were already waiting for them when they arrived. “Took you guys a while,” Said Ayala. “Did you run into trouble?”

“We’re leaving,” snapped Chakotay.

“Leaving?” Asked Torres. “What about...”

“NOW!” Chakotay roared. “That’s an order!”

Everyone was so startled, nobody argued. 

“Alright, the shuttle is this way,” said Torres and meekly led the group back into forest. For maybe half an hour the group walked in absolute silence before she risked whispering to Paris who was beside her “What happened back there?”

“I saw a kid in one of the housing unit windows.” 

Torres’ eyes widened and she nodded. She glanced nervously back at Chakotay who still looked absolutely furious. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure once he calms down, he’ll understand.”

Paris smiled darkly, “I really hope not.”

\--|--

Two weeks had gone by since the events on Dorvan V and Paris was laying in his cabin staring up at the ceiling, and trying not to think while somewhere on another deck half the crew worked to fill and mask the cargo hold full of illegal weapons destined for Soltok IV.

Usually Paris would have been there working too but things seemed to work out a lot better these days for everyone if he just stayed away from Chakotay as much as possible. The first few days after they left Dorvan V, it seemed like all they did was yell at each other, and over the stupidest things. Since then Paris had mostly stayed in his cabin except for meals and when he was needed to fly the ship.

Someone chimed his door. “Come in,” Paris called, expecting Torres again. One nice thing about Dorvan was that he seemed to have made a friend. Torres had been by regularly to distract him and keep him abreast of ship gossip.

“Are you busy?” Paris turned his head to see Chakotay standing just outside his door.

“No,” said Paris, sitting up so there was room on his single sized bed that took up half the space in the cabin.

Chakotay took the invitation and sat beside him. Though Paris noticed he wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I think we should talk.”

“Is that we’re calling it now?”

Chakotay cringed. “I deserve that.”

“Yeah, you deserve a lot of things,” Paris agreed. But he didn’t sound annoyed. Just stating a simple fact. 

“I owe you an apology...and a thank you. Sources here say that apparently Cardassian families had been moved in to Dorvan V ahead of schedule, the exact day before we set up those explosives. I would have killed them.”

“You didn’t though,” pointed out Paris.

“But I would have. Even knowing that there might be people down there, I was willing to do it,” said Chakotay firmly. “I think I’ve been telling myself these past couple weeks that you must have been mistaken because I didn’t want to face what I’d been willing to do.”

“It’s scary. The things we’re capable of sometimes,” Paris agreed, speaking from personal experience. He didn’t like this subject. ”So what now?”

“I quit,” said Chakotay seriously. “I can’t keep doing this. Not when I don’t even know why I am anymore.”

“So you’re going to Trebus? Taking Sekaya up on her offer?”

“No. I’m going to turn myself in,” said Chakotay. “I’m going to leave the crew at Soltok IV and surrender to the nearest Starfleet authority. I feel like I need to atone. Nobody else knows, and I don’t plan to tell them.”

“Why are you telling me?” 

“Tom, you need help.” 

Paris put it together. “You want me to go with you.”

“They have therapists at federation penal colonies,” Chakotay pointed out. “There’s treatments out there, you could get better.”

“I don’t deserve to get better,” Paris countered.

“Then do it for me,” said Chakotay reaching up and running a hand protectively through Paris’ curly hair. “So I don’t have to worry about you all the time.”

Paris sighed and let himself relax into Chakotay;s hand. “I really hate you right now.”

“You helped me make the hard choice, it seems only fair I return the favour,” said Chakotay, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, but when I do it it’s cute,” pouted Paris.

Chakotay grinned and kissed Paris on the cheek and for the first time in a while felt like things might be OK.

 

“There’s a Cardassian warship coming up on our port bow.” Reported Paris from his station on the bridge. “I think it’s Gul Evek’s ship. I guess he found a way off that moon we left him on.”

“They’ll find the weapons if they scan us,” said Torres. 

“They are charging weapons,” reported Tuvok.

“Set a course for the badlands” Called Chakotay as the first of the phaser fire hit them. “Damage report!”

“Shields at sixty percent!” called Tuvok.

“A fuel line is ruptured, attempting to compensate.” called Torres. Another hit. “Dammit, we’re barely maintaining impulse! I can’t get anymore out of it.” 

“Be creative!” yelled Chakotay.

“How am I supposed to be creative with a 39 year old rebuilt engine?” Another hit. 

The Cardassian transmission came through. “Maquis ship, this is Gul Evek of the Cardassian Fourth Order. Cut your Engines and prepare to surrender or we will d--” Chakotay cut off the feed as another burst from the Cardassian ship hit them.

“Shields at fifty percent,” Tuvok reported, just as eerily calm as ever.

“We’ll need more power if we’re going to make it to the badlands,” said Chakotay.

“Take the weapons off-line. We’ll transfer all power to the engines,” said Torres.

“Considering the circumstances, I question that proposal at this time,” said Tuvok.

“What does it matter?” countered Torres. “We’re not making a dent in their shield’s anyways. You wanted creative.”

“If you can give me another thirty seconds at full impulse, I can get us to the Badlands," reported Paris.

Chakotay clenched his jaw and gave the orders. “Throw the last of the photons at them and give Tom the power from the torpedo system."

“Acknowledged. Firing photons.”

The two torpedos hit the Cardassian warship to little effect.

“Are you reading any plasma storms ahead?” asked Chakotay. 

“One," announced Tuvok, giving the location.

“Set a course for it, Tom.” 

“Aye aye, sir," answered Paris putting the course in.

“Plasma storm density increasing by fourteen percent. Twenty. Twenty five,” called Tuvok.

“Hold on,” said Paris, taking the ship in and expertly dodging around the plasma streams.

“The Cardassian ship is not reducing power. They are following us in,” reported Tuvok.

Chakotay almost smiled. “Gul Evek must be feeling daring today.” 

A plasma stream hit the Cardassian ship, knocking it out from pursuit.

Chakotay allowed himself a moment to breath. “Tuvok, can you plot a course through plasma shields?”

“I can plot a course but I’m afraid it will require an indirect route.”

Chakotay nodded. “We can use the time time to make some repairs.” He noticed some odd readings suddenly from his post. “What was that?”

“Curious.” Said Tuvok. “We’ve just passed through some kind of coherent tetyon beam.”

“Source?” 

“Unknown. Now there appears to be a massive displacement wave moving toward us,” reported Tuvok.

“Another storm?” asked Chakotay.

“It’s not a plasma phenomenon. At current speeds it will intercept us in less than thirty seconds.”

“Anything left in those impulse generators, B’elanna?” called Chakotay.

“We’ll find out,” she answered.

“Still exceeding our speed,” said Tuvok.

“Maximum power!” yelled Chakotay.

“Wave is continuing to accelerate. It will intercept us in eight seconds. Five,” Tuvok read, as eerily calm as ever, and then they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read _Pathways_ , Taylor seemed to spend a lot of time putting Paris and Chakotay through traumas and never really dealing with them I just kind of wanted to see them having to deal with it a bit. A lot of things that appear in this fic comes from the book, including the destruction of Chakotay's village, the details of Paris' shuttle crash, Sveta, and Trebus as Chakotay's home planet. Sekaya is from another book entirely that I've never read so if she doesn't resemble the Sekaya from the books that would be why.


End file.
